


A Sirius Misunderstanding

by MammaWeasley27



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8730589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MammaWeasley27/pseuds/MammaWeasley27
Summary: Originally posted on FFN on September 15th, 2016.Started as a one shot. Mutated until it became a multi. Continuing as the muse strikes. Sirimione AR (mostly concerning deaths) Rated:M for a reason! Hermione can't ignore the signs, but looking back it seems she may have misread them. Only time will tell, but her future looks a little Black...Shrieking Shack Society Marauder Medal 2016 nominee for Best Work In ProgressShrieking Shack Society Mischief Managed Awards 2017 First Place Winner for Best Novella





	1. Chapter One

Standing there in front of him, she felt the dizzying emotional vertigo of her heart plummeting at the same moment that bile clawed its way up her throat. She lowered her gaze and stammered out an apology to the visibly indifferent man in front of her. _Circe, he wasn't even noticeably aroused!_ Turning quickly on her heel, she began to carefully extricate herself from the compromising situation she had foolishly placed herself in.

She mentally kicked and berated herself for her poor planning, all the while clenching her jaw and attempting to stem the prickle of tears brimming behind her eyes as she turned for the door. She should have made sure the attraction was mutual before she put herself out there like that. Being rejected in _any_ capacity was hard enough, but to have done what she did... that was a million times worse. There was no passing off their interaction as a mistake or an accident. Oh no. That excuse was dead in the water thanks to her overzealous actions. Just thinking back on how she'd acted sent her into a fresh wave of shame and regret…

She had cornered him when he was coming back downstairs from using the loo. She had pounced, pulling him backwards into a darkened doorway, away from the party raging beneath their feet. He hadn't put up too much of a fight as she pulled him with her further into the bedroom, her mouth ghosting down his neck as her hands divided and conquered, gliding up and down his chest; one coming to rest on his sternum, securing his back to her front, the other following his treasure trail as it dove beneath the front of his trousers. She had felt him begin to stir to life beneath her careful ministrations, and she had been ecstatically joyful that he seemed to obviously feel the pull -the connection- between them in the same way she did.

That all came tumbling down when he playfully quipped in his gravelly voice that he didn't get into bed unless he knew whose name to scream out. She had blanched at that, horrified that he hadn't known it was her all along, as she honestly thought he had; after all, she had been eye fucking him all evening.

Her momentary pause was enough for him to quietly stammer out a guess at her name, cleanly hitting the proverbial nail on the head, and ultimately killing his budding erection. She had pulled back, eyes wide at the hesitation in his voice, only for him to spin around in her hold and stare open-mouthed at her now beet red face, inches from his own.

This is when she had tripped over a hasty apology and made for the exit as fast as her feet could carry her. There was no way she wanted to be in the same room with him any longer than completely necessary, so she went, just short of running out the room, down the stairs to the front door, careful to be quiet as she grabbed her purse and stepped out onto the front step.

If the party hadn't been spread out between the kitchen and the sitting room, she would have used the Floo to leave, but as it were, she was more than grateful for Apparation, despite having to walk a block to the nearest Apparation point. At least with this method she wouldn't have to stare down the incredulous faces of her friends as they attempted to get her to stay…

When she got back to her flat, she hurriedly locked up, closed the Floo, and reinforced her wards. Satisfied that would keep any of her nosy friends out for the time being while she could attempt to squash her embarrassment and self-pity, she slumped down on her couch, clutching her head between her palms.

She could have obliviated him. Now that she thought about it, she _should_ have! After all, she didn't want to be around for the fallout, should he tell someone of what she'd tried to pull. How could she show her face to everyone again, after having misread that to such an extreme degree? And since he was who he was, he would undoubtedly spill to at least one other person. Talk about humiliating! Sweet mother of Merlin, she was doomed! Of course he would talk. It's what he did. _Damn him,_ that Sirius Black.

**

OxOxOxOxO

**

He had stood, rooted in place, just a moment too long. Before he could get her name out properly a second time, she had rushed out an apology and fled the room. "Bugger!" he hissed, stumbling backwards until his calves hit the frame of a bed and he sunk down, his face cradled in his hands. How could he have bungled that?! She had been _right there,_ exactly where he'd been imagining her for months now, and he'd gone and fucked it up. Of course he had! _Shite!_

When he'd first been grabbed on his way back down to Harry's party, he'd hoped it was her. He knew there was no way that could be, but he'd been more than fine with just imagining it was as things progressed. He wasn't willing to compromise his relationship with his godson for the chance at a wet dream like that, no matter how much he was attracted to her. He was determined, for Harry's sake, to never let on to his infatuation to anyone. Other than that one time he'd semi-drunkenly told Mooney, but honestly that didn't count. Mooney was a Marauder, and Marauders don't talk.

However, having said that, he refused to have even one woman saying he was a lackluster lover, and part of that package was having a name to put with a face; at least while their clothes were on the floor. It helped them stay in the moment better, he'd found.

When she'd hesitated, he'd known. The only woman in attendance who wouldn't happily spout out her name _had_ to have been her. It just did. No one else would have a reason to withhold their name for the sake of their privacy- at least not if they were actively working on getting that acquainted with him. Unless it was Minnie, but there was no way in hell -’cause he'd tried.

When her lips had pulled back from that one spot she'd been suckling on his neck, and her hands flew off his skin like they'd been burned, he'd known for sure. When he turned to face her, he would have done anything to turn back the time just a bit and for once just enjoy the experience _without_ having to seem wholly attentive to his partner. Names be damned! Her face had said it all: she'd wanted the anonymity, and he'd buggered that completely with his big mouth and badly timed attempt at humor. _Slytherin's left tit!_

He pulled himself to standing and began to make his way back to the party, knowing she wouldn't be there. That wasn't how she worked. He dazedly shuffled in, honing straight in on Mooney, who was talking animatedly with Aurora Sinistra. Remus looked up as he came over, the smile dropping off his face as he took in his disheveled best friend, who snatched up his tumbler of Firewhiskey and downed it in one.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" the werewolf asked, frowning at Sirius as he handed back the glass of now vanished alcohol. Sirius just shook his head, and Mooney blanched at the look on his face, then went about supplying an excuse to a worried looking professor as he guided his friend back out of the room and towards the unoccupied library.

"Okay, Sirius, what happened?" Remus started. "Last I heard of anything, you were headed up to take a piss, and then I don't see you for forty-five minutes! Talk!" Sirius winced as he took in his friend crossing his arms, his jaw set stubbornly.

"You're not gonna believe this... Someone jumped me on my way downstairs."

Remus scowled, concern visible on his face for a moment, before Sirius' meaning appeared to sink in. His friend's brows shot up into his fringe. "Who was it?!" Remus asked, smirking at the strange look on his friend's face. Sirius had never had that look before after a sack session, and Lupin was growing a bit worried. His worry only compounded when Sirius seemed incapable of giving an answer. Finally, Sirius shook his head as if riding it of a pesky wrackspurt, and gave a small, incredulous grin.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you... Besides, nothing ended up happening; she ran away. But despite that, she's pure magic, that Hermione Granger."


	2. Chapter Two

"So, let me get this straight," Lupin started, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his thumb and forefinger. _"She_ pulled _you_ into one of the spare bedrooms and began feeling you up, but stopped when you realized -and subsequently freaked out- that it was her, and she went running. And now you're upset because… why?"

Sirius huffed out an impatient sigh. "Because I fucked up, clearly! She was _right bloody there_! And what did I do? I cock blocked myself!" With that declaration, he flung himself dramatically backwards onto one of the couches, pulling a pillow over his face and attempting to smother himself.

"Is there any way to even come back from that? I just know she's gonna avoid me now! Ugh! I'm royally fucked up the arse!"

If Remus hadn't had his wolfish hearing, he would have had no idea what his friend had just said. As it was, it was still pretty garbled.

"Mate, can you blame her? She made a move and you lost your ever-loving mind; you scared her off, and probably wounded her pride a bit. Can you think of what would have made her grow so bold as to do something like that, though? Not to say that she couldn't possibly be attracted to you, because she could. Despite the age difference. I'm only wondering 'cause, honestly, it doesn't sound much like something she would do. She isn't that brazen. She isn't the kind to leap without a plan of action, or some factor that causes her to believe it to be a good idea."

Sirius frowned pensively at that, and though back on the events that had lead up to the situation in the bedroom. Hermione had shown up early in the day to go out for a birthday brunch with Harry, all the Weasleys, Sirius, and the Lupins. There had been some mild flirting between the two of them, but nothing different than what they always engaged in. And it wasn't like she just flirted with him, anyways; she flirted with the others as well -Fred, George, Ron, and even occasionally Harry. Besides, Sirius considered it more of playful banter than all out flirtation. He knew all about the various kinds of flirting that could be done, and he always kept his and Hermione's interactions on the tame side of the line, for propriety's sake.

Then after their meal, everyone had split up; most of the men went back to work, Tonks took little Teddy home for a nap, and Hermione came back to Grimmauld Place to help Ginny and her mother with decorating for the party later in the evening. Sirius had attempted to stay out of the Weasley matriarch's way while she cooked and barked out orders to the two young women, preferring to spend time with Harry, Ron, and Remus. The guys all decided that a mid-afternoon game of two-on-two quidditch was a good idea, so they'd spent a good few hours outside in the fresh air.

After that, everyone had trooped inside to shower and change for the party. It was then that Sirius remembered next seeing Hermione. He had been walking towards a nice, hot shower, his old Hogwarts quidditch uniform shirt and an old pair of jeans sticking to his sweaty body, when he'd been forced to a halt when he'd come across the most awe-inspiring vision. He'd even blinked a few times and pinched himself discreetly, just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was. Hermione was in the library, laid out on a couch -the very one he was currently laying on, actually- with her legs crossed and draped over the back, bare feet swinging in the air, even as her curls spilled onto the floor from where her head dipped over the seat cushions. Her nose was buried in a book that she had charmed to float in place above her, which left her hands free to knit what looked to be a scarf of some sort -probably part of Harry's gift, if he had to take a guess. From where he stood frozen in the doorway, he could see that gravity had shifted her denim skirt further up her thighs, and he found he was at the best vantage point to ogle her breasts as they began to spill from her top. _Praise Merlin for tits and gravity!_ Sirius had thought he was going to have a heart attack right there, and end up being found dead with the fiercest erection of his life.

Before he could make a fool of himself, he'd forced himself away from the tantalizing view before him and consoled himself with a good, hard wank in the shower. He'd felt much better after. After securing his towel around his waist, he'd made his way upstairs to his room, whistling as he went. He didn't notice anyone else on the landing, and nor did he feel a pair of amber eyes follow him as he made his way back to his room upstairs.

By the time he'd gotten dressed, people had already begun to show up. Weasleys were scattered throughout the party space magicking final touches into place. He'd dashed around excitedly, helping out as he went, all the while making his way down into the kitchen to retrieve one of his bottles of Ogden's that he'd set out in preparation for the evening. After all, Harry was only going to be twenty once, and what better way to acknowledge that than with a finely aged firewhisky?

Just before entering the room, he'd heard a clatter and hushed cursing. He poked his head curiously around the door and smirked at what greeted him: Hermione, standing on the kitchen counter barefoot, her shoes abandoned haphazardly on the stone floor, frantically trying to corral a very terrified fledgling owl away from the massive cake that Molly had spent all of yesterday on. Feathers were flying everywhere, and Sirius realized with amusement that Molly must've put some sort of modified shield charm around the cake to keep dust and other debris off, as not a single feather was landing on the cake itself.

"Elfric, please calm down! I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to get you back into your cage before Harry spots you." The brunette sang gently, slowly attempting to reach out and nab the little creature. As soon as her hands came within a few inches of him, the little owl hooted frantically and rose higher into the air, causing Hermione to hiss out a string of expletives in frustration. Sirius chortled at this, and she whirled around to see who was laughing at her misfortune, only to begin to lose her balance in the process. Sirius rushed forwards and reached out both hands to help brace her, one on her calve, the other higher up on her hip. It seemed to have worked, as she stopped wobbling, and Sirius quickly withdrew his hands, suddenly unsure what to do with himself.

"Thank you, for that." Hermione breathed out unsteadily, brushing back a curl from her eye line. "Teddy let the little bugger out, and he's been running from me for fifteen minutes now."

"Owls don't run, Hermione. Surely you know that, being the 'brightest witch of the age' and all." Sirius quipped. Hermione's only response was to shoot him a withering glare and stick her pink tongue out at him. He grinned; he rather liked saucy Hermione.

"Fine, he's been _flying_ out of reach every time I get close. Happy now?" she asked.

"I was happy before, being able to point out you being wrong about something, but thank you for asking anyway. Why don't you just use magic to get him back in. You are a witch after all."

Hermione shut her eyes, deciding to ignore his newest jibe. Once she'd mastered herself, she turned and looked down at him with her best dead-level glare. "Gee, I wish I'd only thought of that! Golly, what would I do without you here to help me, Sirius? How ever would I survive? Oh, wait, I forgot: I already tried that! He freaks out every time I go to point my wand at him, so I decided to do this the Muggle way."

She determinedly turned back to face off against the little white owl, who had roosted upon the top of the cabinetry in the very corner where no human could possibly reach.

Sirius stood back, content to just stare at her arse and shapely legs as she maneuvered her way towards the creature, around the cake and other various foodstuffs on the counter.

"You know, you could help me catch the bloody thing, rather than leering at my arse, Sirius." She huffed, shooting a sly look over her shoulder in order to catch the look of abashed shock on his face.

"What's the fun in that, kitten?" he asked, attempting to control the levelness of his voice, and school his features back into a mask of complete indifference as he walked forwards to assist her. "I'm at your service, madam. I live to serve; Use me as your heart desires." At that, Hermione had glared down at him in full force, hands on hips. "If all you have is quips…" she threatened.

Turning back to the problem at hand, she frowned, thinking how to get the little bird out of his hidey-hole. "Sirius, can you hand me one of those bacon and cheddar pinwheels, please?"

Sirius scanned the counter, looking for the savory pastry. Upon finding them, he grabbed one up and handed it to her.

"Alright, his cage is on the table. Grab it, and be ready for me, okay? I'm going to see if I can lure him to me with the food."

Sirius summoned the cage to him and opened the door, holding it rather like a muggle catcher holds his mitt.

"Here, Elfric. Come here, boy. I won't hurt you." Hermione cooed, holding out the food she had pinched between her thumbs and forefingers, offering both hands together so she wouldn't startle the owl as much when she grabbed for him. She was stretched as far as she could go, her upper body pressed into the front of the cabinets as she tried to maintain her balance on the balls of her feet. The fledgling slowly hopped towards the treat, hooting nervously. As soon as he began to partake of the offering, Hermione dropped her hold on it, her hands instead encircling his tiny body in a loose yet restrictive grip. Elfric realized he'd been played, and began hooting and screeching indignantly, attempting to get his wings free as he pecked and bit at Hermione's defenseless hands.

"Quickly, Sirius!" she cried, twisting at the waist to deposit the bird into his cage. Sirius snapped the door shut and charmed the lock as soon as metal hit metal. "Teddy can have fun trying to get him out now!" He crowed happily, walking over to place the cage on the tabletop. Elfric was glaring at both of them, his feathers ruffled. With a quick shiver of his wings, he studiously turned, ignoring the two, and went back to his prize, snapping happily at the bits of bacon.

"Glad he recovered so easily," Hermione sighed, looking down at her appearance. She looked like she'd been put through the wringer: her hair was disheveled, her hands and wrists scratched and bloody, and she even had a slash across her right cheek, although Sirius couldn't imagine when she'd gotten that one.

"Here, let me help you down and get you cleaned up." Sirius offered, holding out his hands near her waist to carry her back down to the ground. He waited for her to use her own hands to guide his to the curve of her waist, where he grabbed on tightly before pulling her forward off the counter and into the safety of his body, lowering her as he went. When her feet touched the ground, he realized exactly how close she now was, her breasts grazing his chest, her hands lightly on the tops of his shoulders from where she'd placed them for balance, her lips inches away from his own. Before he could consider what he was doing, he pressed his lips into hers, molding and manipulating her rosy mouth the way he'd only acknowledged wanting to do in the recesses of his mind, late at night when no one would catch him with his hand around his cock.

A thundering racket reached their ears, denoting the fact that someone was tromping their way downstairs to where they stood, in a very compromising position. Sirius reluctantly broke the coupling, holding her a bit further away, attempting to ignore the look of shock and -unexpectedly- arousal in her eyes.

"Come on upstairs, everyone's officially here, and the party's starting." Ron crowed from the kitchen entrance, completely oblivious to the tension permeating the room. Sirius released his hold on her, the moment stolen from him with Ron's unceremonious intrusion into their… what was it? What the hell had that been? It didn't matter, he reminded himself, as he stole away, determined to get a better grip on himself before he saw Hermione next. He didn't want there to be any awkward conversations.

"Good god, look at you! You look a fright!" Ron said, taking in her appearance for the first time. "Let's get those cuts taken care of; I'll let you fix your hair yourself. Bird's a menace…" Ron chortled, shaking his head at the now docile bird.

"Still, at least you caught him. Didn't think that would ever happen."

Hermione stared beyond the door with a curious gleam in her eyes. "I didn't either, Ron… I thought he'd run forever."

**

OxOxOxOxO

**

Remus stared open mouthed at his best friend. His eyes had gotten wider and wider as Sirius came out with the sordid details of the day. _Merlin!_ He'd known they flirted, but he never knew just how intense it got when they were the only ones to witness it. He'd have to keep his ears up in the future...

"I'm pretty sure we've figured out exactly how she came to be of the mindset that throwing herself at you would go over well." He chuckled quietly, beginning to shake with uncontrollable laughter at the stricken look on the animagus' face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't have the exact dates of when these chapters were originally posted on FFN, so I'm making educated guesses. I'll be uploading a new one here every few days, so keep an eye out.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was miserable. Nothing had helped. Not a half bottle of her favorite wine. Not a bar of her good "period week" dark chocolate. Not a boiling hot shower. Not even a spin with her vibrator -well, that helped ease some of her frustrations, but not the ones that were really plaguing her at the moment. Nothing could ease or erase her dejection. So she was determined to just lay here as long as it took for her to die. She was already miserable and alone -aside from her cat, which she figured in itself added to the level of pathetic- so she figured an early death was on par for her.

She raised herself up, the pillow she had thrown on top of her head sliding down her back as she did, when she saw the blinding light of the Patronus enter her bedroom. There stood Harry's stag, looking all majestic and making her decor look homely in comparison. The stag opened its mouth, and Harry's worried voice spilled out.

"Hermione- Ginny says she saw you rushing out, and she was worried about you. Sorry I didn't notice immediately. We tried to Floo call, but we're guessing you've closed it off on your end. Everything okay? We missed you. Thanks for the scarf, and the owl -what's his name, by the way? Ginny says she'll involve the Minister of Magic if we don't hear back from you in a timely fashion, and judging by the fact that he's currently seated on my couch, I don't think that's an idle threat. Send your otter back so we know you're okay. Love you."

Hermione groaned in exasperation, getting up off the bed to meander over to her purse, snatching her wand out of the side pocket and summoning her Patronus as she adjusted her towel.

"Harry, I'm fine. My stomach and head were bothering me a bit, and I figured it was a good idea to head home and get some uninterrupted rest before work tomorrow. I'm sorry for missing the presents, and the cutting of the cake. And for not saying goodbye. Also, your owl's name is Elfric. Seemed fitting, what with how over-eager he can be. Tell Ginny to call off the search party. I'm fine; just at home nursing a tender tummy. If you call again and I don't respond, I swear I'm just sleeping, not dead in a ditch somewhere. Love you."

With a flick of her wrist, her little silver otter swam off through the air towards Grimmauld Place. Hermione stumbled wearily over to her dresser, letting her damp towel fall off her body as she did, and grabbed a pair of knickers and slipped them on. She then lumbered her way back towards her bed, set her wand on her nightstand, flopped back down on her mattress with an exaggerated sigh, and fell fast asleep.

  
**OxOxOxOxO**  


Hermione woke up to pounding on her front door. She groggily sat up and checked the time on her vintage muggle alarm clock. _Ugh!_ It was only 7:25! She summoned an over-sized t-shirt from her basket of laundry that had yet to be folded, and pulled it on to cover her chest as she made her way to her front door.

"Who is it?" she called, resting her aching forehead on the cool wood.

"Me, Ginny. Obviously. Who else would try to hunt you down by Muggle means when you've closed off all other options? Now open up! I brought coffee and muffins from the shop 'round the corner!"

"Gin, you know I'm trying to lose weight! Why do you tempt me so?" Hermione moaned, her tastebuds already dancing at the thought of the sweet muffin, fresh out of the oven. She'd much prefer that over the stale, quasi-cardboard that was the dry, whole wheat toast she had been planning on making herself to accompany her unsweetened grapefruit juice.

"If you don't open this door right now, I'll be forced to eat them both myself."

Hermione's shoulders dropped, but she quickly unlocked the door and stood aside for her friend to enter.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Ginny asked, thrusting a brown paper bag into Hermione's eagerly waiting hands. "You are wearing knickers under that shirt, right?"

Hermione chuckled, walking back down the short hallway towards her kitchen. "Do you honestly think I would answer the door without at least knickers on? What kind of guileless hussy do you take me for?" she asked incredulously as she set the bag on her cafe style table and pulled out the contents.

"Oh, my god. I don't know if I hate you, or love you." Hermione gasped, her eyes sparkling as they feasted upon a pair of her favorite cranberry citrus muffins with orange glaze. They were seasonal. She didn't wait for an invitation before she plucked up one of the still-warm muffins and promptly began eating.

Ginny huffed, but looked pleased nonetheless. "You better damn well love me, because I had to get up extra early to go to the bank to exchange for muggle money to buy those. Plus, who else is going to keep you in pastry when school starts up in September? Not Harry! And certainly not Ron! They would never even think to do so."

Hermione placed her muffin carefully on the table -not wanting it to teeter over now that it was off balance- and walked over to Ginny, grabbing her on both sides of the head, and, as a laughing Ginny tried to shake her off, placed a crumby kiss on her forehead.

"Was that completely necessary?" The redhead asked as she attempted to brush the crumbs and glaze off of herself.

"For these muffins? Yes. If you hadn't volunteered yourself to be my muffin girl, I was contemplating pimping myself out for them." Hermione sighed dramatically, taking another large bite out of her muffin. Ginny gave a derisive snort and took a swig of her coffee.

Hermione knew that she really shouldn't be partaking in the treat Ginny had brought, as it was sure to derail all her hard work as soon as her stomach realized it wasn't getting something quite as yummy for the next meal, but she couldn't help it. Plus, she figured that a muffin or two more before she went to teach at Hogwarts wouldn't kill her. Hogwarts, where she'd be parted from the sticky goodness of fresh, seasonal muffins except on rare occasions when Ginny was magnanimous enough to bring her one. She'd have plenty of time to climb stairs and work off the weight she'd gained since the end of her school days and the war. She wasn't a teenager any more, and she knew she wasn't "over-weight" per se, but when her favorite pair of jeans no longer fit, and her button down shirts began to pull across the chest, something had to be done. So she'd decided to go on a diet, and start walking as much as possible instead of just Apparating or Flooing like she had been. Some places that didn't work, but if it was close or if it was Muggle, she'd walk. She'd also started going with her mum to the gym three times a week. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to keep that up over the school year, but she was determined to figure something out.

"So," began Ginny, breaking Hermione out of her reverie. "Why did you leave so early last night, and without saying goodbye to anyone? No one except me even knew you had left until the cake was being served."

Hermione guiltily fiddled with her takeaway cup, hastily taking a large sip so she didn't have to respond. She regretted it instantly, as she scalded her mouth on the piping hot liquid. She quickly swallowed, as her sink was too far away to spit the lava-like liquid out into, and began frantically fanning at her mouth as she ran to her fridge for a glass of milk, or pumpkin juice, or _something_ cold.

"Oops. Meant to tell you I'd left that under a stasis." Ginny said, looking abashed as her friend chugged down the last of the orange juice, straight from the carton.

After a quick wandless, non-verbal healing spell on her tongue and palate, Hermione could no longer put off answering her friend's query. "I left early because I wasn't feeling well." She said as smoothly as possible, hoping the half-truth would suffice for now. It didn't.

The look of stoic incredulity that Ginny gave her would have made Minerva McGonagall beam with pride. As much as Minerva ever beamed, that is. "Sure, that's what you told Harry, but I can hear the lie even when it comes from your Patronus' mouth and not your own. Harry doesn't like to dive too deeply with you, so he let it go. He especially wasn't going to pry further after Ron made an assumption that it must be 'woman issues.'"

Hermione rolled her eyes hard and looked heavenward. She could almost see Ron, blanching at the very thought, as he told Harry about the utter carnage he figured must've happened to make her leave without saying goodbye, the horror of such a thing as a period weighing heavily on his masculine mind.

"I know that's not the case, 'cause our cycles are still roughly synced from when we had a flat together. I need to know: what really happened? And don't you dare try to pass off another half-arsed lie to me, Hermione! I will know if you do. I was trained by the best, you know."

Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat, and Hermione quickly mumbled her way through the whole harrowing tale, her cheeks reddening as she went. She refused to meet Ginny's gaze the whole while, not wanting to see the shock she knew would be there.

"And then I stumbled out the bedroom door, grabbed my bag, and almost ran to the Apparation point the next street over because I couldn't face seeing anyone on my way towards the Floo."

Hermione could hardly stomach seeing her friend's face, but after two solid minutes of silence, her curiosity got the better of her. Ginny's eyes were round as saucers, her jaw hanging slack, mouth in a near perfect "O". When Hermione's eyes locked on her, she began squealing and jumping up and down.

"I can't believe you _did_ that! Oh, _Merlin_ , it's like Christmas came early! I _knew_ you didn't actually feel sick, but I never _dreamed_ that something _this_ juicy had happened!"

Hermione blushed scarlet, her hair hiding her face as she hung her head in shame and embarrassment. "If you're quite done," she seethed, punctuating her words with a sideways glare, "I need help dealing with the potentially disastrous results of this horrifically asinine mistake I made! Could you _please_ help me figure out how I'm going to face Harry, while knowing that the man who is, for all intents and purposes, his father and I have snogged good and proper, and that I've touched his... _You know_!"

Ginny grinned evilly, very much resembling her twin older brothers. "No, I don't know. Do tell?" With a waggle of copper-colored eyebrows and a rather ridiculously inappropriate yowling noise, the two girls dissolved into unrestrained giggles.

Hermione checked the time and attempted to reign in her laughter, regretfully saying, "You really should get going so I can change and get to work on time. I've only got a month left at the Ministry before I leave for Hogwarts, and I'd hate to start being tardy now."

Ginny nodded her head, and went to give Hermione a hug. While there, she murmured, "I don't think you made a mistake, by the way." And with that, she turned on the spot and was gone, leaving behind a very bemused Hermione.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to upload a new chapter (well, new here - check out FFN if you get impatient)! Christmas was insane, being the mother of three little girls. We've just been spending a few lazy days enjoying each other's company. It's been nice. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione sighed, rolling her shoulders back and stretching her neck from side to side to attempt to relieve it of the stiffness that had settled in while she hunched over her mountain of paperwork. If her mother was there, she would go into a tizzy over Hermione's horrible posture, slipping into a tangent about how she was going to end up with arthritis or osteoporosis when she got older. Hermione couldn't' seem to help it though; whenever she became immersed in her work, her body tended to sag forward. And the looming stack of papers she'd found on her desk that morning had done nothing if not keep her immersed.

The morning had been productive so far in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hermione liked her job well enough, but after almost three years of working deep within the politically saturated Ministry, she had grown weary of the red tape and arse kissing. It was too twisted and convoluted for her tastes. She wasn't slimy enough to make it, so she muddled along, minding her own business as she tried -and most often failed- to work for the rights of certain classes of magical creatures. She'd still had no luck where house elves were concerned, but she'd had a bit of headway with centaurs and werewolves. Not enough, in her mind. It never would seem to be enough, to her, but it was something, she told herself. She knew she could hold her head high when she left for the last time, knowing that she had made at least a small impression at the Ministry.

She jumped and squealed when someone reached over the back of her chair and grabbed her sides, squeezing lightly, and causing her to almost slip out of her seat.

"Afternoon, 'Mione!" Harry crowed, grinning triumphantly down at her. Amber colored eyes flashed as they met green; if looks could kill, Harry would be dead on the floor.

"Harry James Potter! Don't _do_ that! How many times do I have to _tell_ you?! You can't _do that_ to people and not expect to get your bollocks hexed off! You're lucky I was only holding my quill and not my wand!" Hermione exclaimed, her hand to her heart as it thumped out an unsteady gallop within her chest.

Harry's face sobered at the idea of his bollocks being blown to bits, and he hung his head, properly chastised. "Sorry, 'Mione. I forgot how jumpy you get when you're properly distracted."

Hermione sighed, her body sinking down into her office chair as the adrenaline left her bloodstream. "It's alright. Just promise me you won't do that again?" Harry nodded contritely.

"So, are you ready to go to lunch, or do you need a moment to finish up?" He asked, reminding her suddenly of their standing Wednesday lunch dates.

Hermione heaved a sigh, pretending to look over her work and evaluate if she needed to finish anything up. In reality, she knew she could leave everything as it was without worry. What _was_ worrying her, however, is how in the world was she going to sit across from Harry at lunch and _not_ think about the fact that she'd spent the entirety of his birthday and party wet for his godfather. God, she'd been _so_ wet... _Stop it, Hermione!_

Harry cleared his throat, bringing her back from her downward spiral of inappropriate thoughts. "Yes, I'm ready, I think." Hermione said, standing quickly, smoothing out her navy pencil skirt, and grabbing up her wand and clutch.

As they walked towards the floo connections, Harry told her about what she'd missed after she left his party the night before. Apparently, Ginny had brought a magically-converted muggle karaoke machine for their entertainment, and it seemed that most of the highlights seemed to include it in some manner, along with copious amounts of booze -both the Muggle and wizarding varieties.  
There was the story where the twins semi-drunkenly sang "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred with _very_ enthusiastic hip thrusts, or when Susan Bones and Dean Thomas had done a very sweet rendition of "A Whole New World" from _Aladdin_ that made Fleur cry, much to the amusement of her girls. They'd even charmed it to play a few wizarding songs, and Mrs. Weasley had sung "A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love", much to everyone's displeasure.  
The coup de grace was the very drunk -at that point- muggle-borns and half-bloods all getting together and doing the "Y.M.C.A." -complete with hand motions. This apparently ended in certain members of the chorus stripping off pieces of clothing and throwing them from the makeshift stage. Mrs. Weasley had to step in and shut down the whole operation after that. Harry refused to name names, forcing Hermione to assume he was included in the strip tease lot.

Hermione shook her head and mentally slapped herself, _very_ grateful that she hadn't been there at that point. She knew _exactly_ where Ginny had gotten the blasted device: on a shopping trip a few months prior with none other than herself and Luna Lovegood. Ginny had said she wanted to give it to her dad as a Christmas gift -something new for him to take apart, but clearly that had been a lie. She was going to have to have a little chat with the ginger about how _not_ to use and abuse Muggle technology... Although she was wondering how she'd charmed it to work around the wards at Grimmauld. Maybe Ginny would be willing to work on Hermione's iPod?

  
**OxOxOxOxO**  


Harry and his stories of the party distracted her so much that she almost didn't notice who was waiting for them at their table until it was too late.

"Harry," Hermione said, turning her body so Sirius couldn't notice as she attempted to squash down her rising panic before it bubbled over into her tone, "Why is Sirius sitting at our table?"

"Oh," Harry looked up and waved happily at his godfather, ignorant of his best friend's distress. "I forgot to mention that he's going to be joining us on Wednesdays for the foreseeable future because I have a project that I need both of your help on."

Hermione let out a shaky breath. At least Harry hadn't dragged him here because he _knew_ and wanted to make the two of them talk things out. She didn't think she could take that.

She allowed Harry to walk her over to the table, where Sirius stood for her like a perfect gentleman -whose cock she _hadn't_ grabbed the night before. They all sat in relative silence and began perusing the menu, while Hermione tried to keep her breathing under control. It wouldn't due to hyperventilate over lunch.

"Hmm, what sounds good today?" Sirius mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I'm thinking _chicken_ , but I can't decide between the _breast_ or the _thigh._ " Hermione's eyes grew round, and she quickly raised her menu to hide her shock as he continued, "Both are succulent, and full of tender meat, but the thigh apparently comes dripping moist _au jus_."

Harry shook his head and chuckled heartily at his godfather's antics, oblivious, as his best friend couldn't help but clinch her thighs painfully together in an attempt at creating friction - _No! Not creating friction!_ She admonished herself. She could not do that at _lunch_ , no matter how Sirius baited her!

Despite her firm words to herself, she could feel her own "jus" soaking her knickers at his words, and she was desperately trying to pretend she had no idea he was talking about anything other than food. It wasn't working, judging by the way her nipples were pebbling as her mind conjured up unbidden images of his rough hands on her breasts... _Stop that!_ She may have been ridiculously turned on, but she was more than slightly mad at his insinuation that she was a chicken. She only ran last night because of how he reacted when he found out it was her! She was not about to sit there and listen to him sneakily admonish her for her actions, or hear him claim there was nothing between them and that she'd been massively -or drunkenly- mistaken. _No!_ She was an adult. She was almost twenty-one, and she did not need to have a sex talk from Sirius -especially when _he_ had been the one she was hoping to have sex with. That was just degrading.

"Or maybe I'll have the oysters... I've always enjoyed sucking them out of their shells. I'm crazy about the slightly salty flavor. Can't get enough of it. I could eat oysters for hours." Hermione ground her teeth and clenched her fists around her menu to stop herself from pounding her hands on the table in exasperation. She'd never heard that euphemism before, but how _could_ he?! Harry may be a bit daft about girls and sex, but _my God_ was Sirius laying it on thick! Harry was _bound_ to catch on!

Thankfully the server came back quickly and began to get their orders sorted out. Hermione ordered the strawberry salad with vinaigrette, rather than the asparagus risotto she had been eyeing, Harry ordered lamb chops with roasted veg, and Sirius decided he wanted a steak and mashed potatoes, instead of his earlier considerations. Hermione sighed, thankful that the innuendos would be stopping.

"And how would you like that prepared?" The server asked, quick-quotes quill paused over a floating notepad. Sirius paused to give it a bit of thought, then grinned like the devil. "I'll take it medium -I like a juicy, pink center."

Hermione had to restrain herself from smacking him or groaning out her annoyance into her hands as their server vanished the menus and banished their order to the kitchen before walking to a neighboring table. Sirius sat there, grinning like a fool -even more so when he noticed her clenched jaw, and Harry was oblivious to both of them.

"So, Harry, why did you summon us here today?" Sirius asked jovially, bouncing his right leg up and down.

"Before I get to that, I need the loo. I'll explain as soon as I get back." Harry said, springing from his chair like someone had placed a Muggle tack in it. That was odd...

As soon as Harry disappeared around the corner, Hermione lit into Sirius, completely forgetting Harry's weird behavior. "I cannot believe you! Harry may be daft about some things, but he isn't _that_ daft about _anything_! You've got to stop before he catches on! And stop _that_ , as well-" she said, reaching over and using her hand to force his leg to stop bouncing up and down. "You're putting me on edge!"

Sirius' eyes darkened minutely as his grin began to slip into a self-satisfied smirk. "Ah, so now you're going to acknowledge me? If you're so worried about my double entendres, maybe you should get your hand off my thigh. People might start to suspect there's more going on than there is. Especially if they knew about last night."

Hermione snatched her hand back like he'd shot a stinging hex at her, completely humiliated that she hadn't removed her hand straight away. She hadn't even realized it was still there. She wanted to come back with a scathing comment, but she had nothing.

"Speaking of last night, what _was_ that?" He asked in a low voice, leaning towards her over the tabletop. Hermione could feel a blush spreading up her chest and neck to her cheeks. God, she had _really_ hoped he wouldn't mention that, but at least he'd had a care to not mention it in front of Harry.

Cheeks flaming, Hermione attempted to formulate a train of thought. _How could he ask her that? He was there! He knew what_ that _was!_

She thought back on the whole day: how he'd been flirting with her at brunch -especially after a few mimosas; how he'd seemed to have an excuse to end up in every room she'd cleaned; then how she'd caught a glimpse of him watching her from the doorway of the library as she read -he'd groaned! She wouldn't have noticed otherwise! And then there was the whole owl incident... Can't forget that! Plus all the times she'd felt his eyes roaming over her body at the party.

Before she could formulate her reply, Harry was back, as was their server with their food and drink orders floating along behind him.

"Always works: Someone heads to the loo and the food comes out! Amazing! Almost like magic." Harry said jokingly, completely unaware of the awkward sexual tension between the other two occupants at the table. Sirius shot her a smoldering gaze that let her know he wasn't through with her.

Too bad it was too early for her to order a shot of something...

This was going to be a _very_ long lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you guys have been so patient (again, sorry!), here is a second chapter update today. Again, this has been posted completely (not complete - still a WIP - just up to where I'm at) on FFN. Same author name and story title.
> 
> Enjoy! :D


	5. Chapter 5

Harry proceeded to consume his food at an alarming rate, completely ignoring his guests, and otherwise generally acting in a rather un-Harry-like fashion. Something was _definitely_ wrong, Hermione decided. She just wasn't sure what.

It seemed Sirius had decided the same, because he had abandoned his steak to stare at his godson. "Slow down there, pup. I promise to feed you more at home if you can just find it in yourself to calm down. No one here is going to take your food away." he joked, despite his eyes being hard with concern.

Harry looked up bashfully from his plate, fork halfway to his mouth and cheeks slightly bulging. Hermione made a face and pushed her plate away, quite put off her lunch. It seemed she'd have to take it to go and eat in her cubicle. There was no coming back after seeing that particular spectacle.

Harry gulped down his food and took a generous swig of his chilled Butterbeer, before he asked. "Am I really that obvious?"

Hermione and Sirius briefly glanced at each other before turning their incredulous gazes on the bespectacled young man. "Harry, you're acting as twitchy as a bowtruckle in a dragon's den. What's going on?" Hermione chided, while Sirius asked, "Why are Hermione and I here, pup?"

Hermione couldn't help the thrill that raced down her spine at the way her name seemed to issue out of his mouth like a caress. But she could think about that later; right now her best friend needed her full attention.

"I'm... planningtoproposetoGinny." Harry nervously bit out.

A shaky -and dare she say, almost teary- smile spread over Sirius' face as Hermione herself let out a rather un-Hermione squeal of joy.

"Oh my God, Harry, are you really?!" she asked, practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

Harry nervously scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah, I am. I know we're young and all, but I have a house, and a solid job. Plus, you know, my parents were married and already had me at this age..." here he trailed off, suddenly somber. "But I think they'd approve if they were here; not only of her, but the timing."

Sirius swallowed loudly and cleared his throat a bit. "I _know_ they would." he insisted softly. Hermione couldn't help but get a bit choked up herself, especially when his words combined with the utterly endearing expression on his face as he regarded his best friend's son. Harry was like a son to him, and Hermione couldn't imagine how he was feeling at being included in this momentous moment as one of the first to know. _Speaking of..._

"Harry, I think we all know why you had Sirius here -as he's your family, and you're obviously looking for his blessing- but why am I here? Why not Ron, or Mr. Weasley? Surely they'd come before me?"

Harry stared at her, openly confused and a little sad. "'Mione, you're _family_. Of course I'm going to ask for your blessing on this, of all things. Your opinion means the world to me, and I undoubtedly wouldn't be here without your sound judgment."

Hermione began tearing up in earnest, and flung herself out of her chair and onto her friend in a desperate, weepy hug which he returned heartily.

"Of course you have my blessing, you idiot!" she cried, wiping at her eyes with the knuckles of her right hand.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go make sure my mascara isn't an utter mess." She disengaged from his arms and straightened her top as she stood straight and walked her way towards the loo. Harry watched her go momentarily, full of love for his friend. He turned back around to talk with Sirius and noticed the man was still watching Hermione's retreating form -or more accurately, her arse.

"Sirius," Harry began disbelievingly, "Why are you staring at Hermione?"

Sirius didn't blush or give any other indication that he'd heard his godson. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge him at all, but his lips quirked up into a smirk as his eyes raked over the younger woman. He finally tore his gaze from Hermione as the loo door closed behind her.

"What was that Harry?" he asked distractedly, finally turning to face his godson, a smirking grin stretched from ear to ear.

Harry stared at him, his mouth open, completely gobsmacked. "You were staring at her arse!" he stated, finger stabbing towards the man in incredulous condemnation.

Sirius' smirk fell from his face, his eyes now wary and guarded. "No, I wasn't, Harry." he said, coming across as persuasive and firm. Harry refused to be swayed.

"Yes, you were. Sirius, I saw it with my own eyes. What the hell is going on?! And what was with all those innuendos earlier? Were those supposed to actually mean something?!" he demanded.

At that moment, Hermione reemerged from the restroom and began her way back to the table. Sirius' eyes took on a pleading look. "It was nothing, Harry. I swear. Please drop it."

Harry was shocked, watching his godfather pleading with him. Whatever was going on was big -massive. Harry was going to get to the bottom of it, but now didn't seem to be the time, so he quickly agreed. "Fine, but you're telling me later or else..."

Hermione reached the table as Sirius cast a panicked glance at his godson before he nodded quickly, and she stopped, unsure, before her chair. "Am I interrupting something? Because I can go walk around for a minute if you need." She offered, looking between the two men.

Sirius recovered first. "Oh, it was nothing. Harry and I were just having a bit of a chat about his and Ginny's... Intimacy issues." He finished, shooting Harry an apologetic glance. _Sorry, pup..._

Harry turned beet red and glared over at Sirius, and Hermione looked slightly embarrassed for him. "Well, not that I want to know what's going on - _at all_ , because I don't- but if you ever need female advice, don't be afraid to ask. I've heard enough from Ginny to know you... aren't lacking. But apparently you could use a little fine tuning, especially concerning the... _cunnilingus_ department." she coughed out, making Harry turn redder than he was, and even stunning Sirius into silence.

"I'm gonna kill Ginny, and then I'm going to propose to her corpse." Harry murmured, his face buried in his hands.

Sirius, however, had gotten past his shock, and was now laughing quietly and horribly curious. "What exactly has she said, Hermione dearest?" His feral, predatory grin sent a shiver of animalistic thrill down her spine and caused her body to react in a rush of arousal.

"I don't think that's my place to share," she breathed out, thoroughly captured within his gaze.

"Damn right it isn't!" Harry shot out, startling the two from their private moment. "No more talking to Ginny! At least, not about _that_."

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You're right. I'm sorry, Harry. You know how Ginny is, though: If she's determined to say something, she'll hold you down and make you listen. I'm afraid I don't have much choice in the matter, but I'll try harder in future."

Harry blushed but seemed appeased.

Suddenly, a patronus permeated the suddenly gloomy-feeling restaurant and a lynx took shape. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep baritone rang forth from its small form: "Harry, I need you back at the ministry. Something has come up regarding you know what."

Harry sat forward excitedly and cast his own patronus, "Tell Kingsley 'I'm on my way.'" he told it, and it was gone.

Hermione's brow furrowed with worry. "What's going on, Harry?" she asked quietly, aware that some of the other patrons were still watching them after the unusual form of communication.

"We've been tracking the last few Death Eaters, and it would seem that one or more have been captured." he said, carefully laying out his portion of the bill on the table. Sirius made to protest, but Harry shut him down. Then he leaned forward and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." he told them both before he walked outside and disapperated.

Hermione became very aware of how alone she suddenly was with Sirius, her Harry-shaped buffer now missing. It seemed Sirius realized this as well, as that damningly wicked grin had reappeared.

"Alone at last. Now, can we discuss last night?" Sirius asked, staring her down and turning her core to molten heat with the force of his gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione refused to acknowledge the night before -not to herself and certainly not to him. In a bid to escape, she quickly called their server over, asking for the bill, a stasis box for her food -Sirius asked for one as well, and a to-go cup of tea. Sirius stared openly at her, refusing to let on how irked he was by her unwillingness to _talk_ with him.

As soon as the server returned and transferred their food to the stasis boxes, Hermione checked the bill and added her gold to Harry's, making sure she covered the tip for the two of them as well. Sirius quickly threw down a handful gold as well -more than enough for his meal and a generous tip- and stalked after her, not wanting to give her the chance to disappear again.

The two left the restaurant and headed away from the curb and Sirius' motorbike, towards the alley where the apparation point was set up. Sirius cornered her before she could turn on the spot, literally pinning her back against a broken-down street cart and the alley wall, and holding onto her wrist so she couldn't leave without taking him with her.

"Sirius, let me go." She said evenly, swallowing hard to try to keep her frantic heart from leaping out of her mouth.

"No." He growled out simply. "Not until you talk to me. You can't avoid me forever, Hermione."

She groaned in frustration -she wasn't sure if it was sexual or otherwise. "Sirius, I'm going to be late to work. My lunch break is nearly over, and I need to clock back in. This isn't the time."

"When _will_ be the time?" he asked, his eyes pleading with hers, so she closed her lids.

"Later." she said vaguely.

"Ok. _Later_." He answered, letting her go. As soon as Hermione was free, she apparated away, leaving behind a very frustrated but determined Sirius.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Hermione Floo'd home, stasis box of uneaten salad in hand, completely knackered. As soon as she'd gotten to work, she'd been summoned by Harry to help the Aurors with their latest catch: none other than Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf. He'd been on the run, wandless and rabid, ever since the battle two years previous. Somehow, a small team of Aurors had finally been able to apprehend him after he slipped up in a small village outside of Nottingham, and he'd been immediately placed in a solitary holding cell, awaiting his trial. His sentence had been decided in the minds of most of the populace after the war, but it was the Ministry's moral and legal obligation to give him a fair trial. And that's how Hermione had found herself -well, more accurately, her department- pulled into the trial of a notoriously vicious werewolf whom no one really wanted to defend.

The Ministry was still trying to regain its standing among its people after Fudge's abysmal handling of the war and various mistrials of witches and wizards on both sides of the line. Too much paperwork had gone missing due to a corrupt establishment, and few continued tin heir blind trust of the system. Questions were asked. Answers were demanded. People were fired. It was a tough time to be an active member of the governing body, but also a good and necessary one. Like cleansing rain after a forest fire.

Speaking of cleansing rain... A shower sounded amazing. And maybe a cup of tea, but that could wait. Hermione banished her leftovers to the kitchen and began shimmying out of her clothes right there in her foyer. The sooner she could get in the shower, the better. Her neck was kinked up something awful and the idea of standing under steaming hot water as it pounded into her back sounded heavenly.

She'd stripped down to her blush colored cami and striped boyshorts, kicking off her heels as she undid her bra and pulled it straight up and out of the neck of her top. _So much better_ , she thought, scratching at her back where the band had dug in a bit. Then she bent to snatch up her dirty navy blazer, sheer floral shirt, and pencil skirt, intending to drop them off at her laundry room on her way towards the shower.

All that was forgotten as soon as she reached the juncture where the foyer met the other areas of the house. There, on her couch, looking very much the picture of ease, was Sirius in a pair of ratty jeans, and a grey shirt, his leather jacket thrown over the arm nearest the door. Despite his lax posture and casual dress, he still somehow exuded good-breeding and refinement. Other than his eyes, that was, which were locked on her body with a hungry glint. He reminded her of a cobra before it strikes, almost hypnotizing to its prey with how focused it is.

"This is not what I had in mind when I said we'd talk later." he said in a growl that was either angry or aroused, looking her up and down again with guarded eyes before focusing on her face. Hermione felt her heart fully stop for a moment before it jumped up and began running beneath her ribs.

"Well, this isn't exactly what _I_ had in mind when you said later." She said cooly, tamping down on her distress and continuing on her way towards her bedroom, pretending his eyes weren't following her the whole way. _I guess the shower will have to wait..._ she thought glumly.

She dumped her dirty clothes in her hamper and continued into her room, fetching a pair of lounge pants and slipping them on before turning to head back to the living room to face her unexpected guest. Only he wasn't in the living room anymore. Oh no. He'd followed her towards her bedroom and now stood, leaning against the doorjamb, oozing sex appeal. _Fuck._ She swallowed hard before making her way past him on her way to the kitchen.

"If you really insist on talking now, I need a strong cuppa tea first. Today was complete and utter insanity."

He followed behind her quietly, and stood watching as she went about preparing tea. She reached into a cabinet and grabbed two mugs after shooting him a look to see if he wanted tea as well, at which he gave her a small nod. Then she danced around him to grab up her basket of assorted teas and the sugar bowl.

As soon as the kettle was boiling, she placed everything on a tray and floated it in front of her and onto the coffee table in the living room before perching herself on the edge of her favorite wingback armchair. She stared Sirius down as she made up her cup of tea with crisp, sure movements.

"You wanna talk, Sirius? Let's talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter simply because I'm awake, and FFN got a new one yesterday. These chapters are coming to you from my FFN account unedited, so keep that in mind when you read them. Lots of love, and happy new year.


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as Sirius got home from lunch, he cracked open a bottle of Firewhiskey and poured himself two fingers of the spirit into a crystal tumbler. He downed that almost in one, wincing as the liquid burned his tongue and throat. He then filled his glass a second time, putting in a capful of spring water and giving it a swirl to mix the two before he took a sip. _Much better,_ he thought. _I can actually taste this glass._

He'd just sat down, glass in hand, staring up at the ceiling with his head resting against the back of the couch and his feet thrown up carelessly on the coffee table, when the Floo went off. Sirius didn't even bother getting up. He knew there were only two people who would show up unannounced at this time of day: Harry, who he'd just had lunch with, and one Remus Lupin, werewolf.

Sure enough, Remus wandered into the parlor slowly, head cocked to the side, nostrils flared. "Firewhiskey already, Pads?" he asked curiously. "Your lunch with Harry went badly, I take it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes over to his best friend, not even bothering to reposition himself, so he was almost looking down his nose at the man. "Au contraire, my furry friend, it was wonderful. It was. Harry is going to propose to Ginny!" Remus grinned happily at the news along with Sirius, who continued on uninterrupted, "Also, he didn't come alone..."

At that, Remus perked his ears up.

"She was there? Did you talk with her?"

Sirius nodded -more like wiggled- his head slowly, before shaking it a bit more firmly, his hair tangling against the upholstery of the couch. "Well, kinda. Sorta."

Remus frowned at his friend's inability to give a concise answer, crossing abruptly to an armchair and sitting down, legs spread out before him and ankles crossed, elbows on the armrests and hands clasped on his stomach. He could sense he'd be there a while, so he figured he might as well get comfortable.

"Yes: I _technically_ talked to her. And also no: I did _try_ to talk to her about last night, but she shut me down. She tried to say she had _no idea_ what I was talking about, and then she used work as an excuse to put it off until _'later!'_ Without defining when 'later' was!" he grumbled, taking a large swallow out of his glass.

Remus sighed, summoning the Firewhiskey and a tumbler for himself.

"It would seem she's in denial." Sirius shot him a dirty look for being so completely obvious. Remus chose to ignore this, and spoke over the huff that the animagus emitted. "You swear she wasn't drunk last night, so she can't push it off as not being in control of herself, and she obviously remembers judging on her reaction... Maybe she's ashamed? Although of how she _behaved,_ or her _attraction_ to you, I'm not sure. There aren't many other reasons for her to be avoiding you. At least none that I can think of that fit."

Sirius toasted his friend and took another swig from his glass, hissing out, "Thanks _ever_ so much, Moony. Don't know what I'd do without you." Remus shot him a half-hearted glare and toasted him back.

"You'd be a hopeless drunk with _zero_ insights into the female psyche."

"Touché."

**OxOxOxOxO**

"Sirius!" Harry called as he stepped out of the Floo after a very long, hard day's work. He was tired and mentally drained, and all he wanted was hot meal and a good night's rest, but he _needed_ to get to the bottom of what was going on with his godfather and his best friend. He didn't think he would be able to sleep properly if it was hanging over his head all night long, despite the fact that he could almost _hear_ his bed calling out to him.

"In here, Harry!" Lupin's voice drifted to him from the billiard room.

As he got closer he could hear pool balls thwacking together and the sounds of laughter and good-natured ribbing. He didn't really want to bring up the whole _"Hermione thing"_ with Lupin there, but at the same time he didn't know how to get rid of him without arousing suspicion, and the man might actually already know more than Harry did, with him being Sirius' best friend. It was certainly worth finding out how much he knew, if nothing else.

"Lupin, good to see you!" Harry said, entering and clapping his old professor on the back.

"Same to you, Harry. How're things with Ginny?" Lupin shot Harry a knowing glance, and Harry grinned unabashedly, shooting a glance at his godfather who was lining up a particularly tricky looking shot.

"Seems I was too distracted to mention at lunch that I wanted things kept quiet. Ah, well, as long as you've _only_ told Lupin?" Harry slowly finished with a question, relaxing as Sirius nodded his head, grinning as the cue ball hit it's mark and sent the ball spinning into the top left corner pocket.

"Of course, pup! It's not really my news to tell, but it did come up when we were talking. I trust Remus, though, or else I wouldn't have mentioned it at all."

Harry nodded in acceptance of the explanation, glad to hear that his plans were still mostly secretive. _Speaking of secretive..._ He needed to get Sirius talking before he passed out of exhaustion, and this might just be the perfect opportunity to segue over to the more difficult topic.

"What else do you trust Lupin with, Sirius? Does he know about your infatuation with Hermione?"

Lupin's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but chuckle as he looked between an uncomfortable, yet determined Harry, and a very sheepish Sirius.

"Er, about that... There's not much to tell. Hermione and I flirt back and forth. It's what we do - it doesn't mean anything, though." Sirius hedged, trying not to meet the inquisitive stare of his green-eyed godson.

Lupin could see that Harry wasn't happy with Sirius' explanation. Not happy at all. He was tense and was glaring at the Black scion. The only thing Lupin wasn't sure of was if it was because he was unhappy that Sirius flirted with Hermione _period,_ or if it was because he was claiming it meant nothing to him. Either way, you could cut the tension emanating between the two with a knife.

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour, startling them all.

"Would you look at the time! Gotta dash. Places to be, and all that." Sirius said, rushing out of the room amid protests from Harry and Remus alike. Moments later they heard the rush of the Floo, and knew he was long gone.

"What was all that about, Lupin?" Harry asked. "He was acting so odd at lunch, and so was Hermione, now that I think about it. And I know you know something, so don't try to deny it."

Lupin looked Harry in the eye, releasing a sigh of frustration. Sirius was in deep shit when he next saw him. A thought struck the werewolf, and a sly grin slowly came over his face.

_Since Sirius deigned to leave me to clean up his mess, I may as well…_

"Exactly how much did you notice last night at your party?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crapballs, Batman! Time got away from me. I am so sorry, guys. I should have AT LEAST updated this to keep it current with what's on FFN, but I kept putting it off/forgetting. I beg your forgiveness, and if that doesn't work, I hope I can buy it by catching you all up and giving you a new chapter as well. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To avoid confusion, this chapter picks up where chapter 5 left off. ;)

Sirius rigidly sat on her tan couch, trying not to stare a hole in her as she painstakingly made up her tea. He knew she was doing it on purpose to mess with his head, and  _ dammit _ , it was working! He had to force himself to stifle a frustrated groan as she  _ finally _ settled back into her chair, clutching her mug and looked over at him coolly.

 

"You wanna talk, Sirius? Let's talk."

 

He  _ knew _ she hadn't meant to, but when she spoke in that low, measured tone it made her words come out far more honeyed and seductive than she could have meant for them to when attempted purposefully. Especially judging by the look on her face. He'd wager his whole fortune on a guess that she was not aiming to seduce  _ at all _ , but rather to strike fear into his heart. She struck something, all right, if his hardening cock was anything to go by.

 

"Why are you avoiding me, Hermione? What'd I do?"

 

Hermione couldn't help but scoff at that.  _ Was he  _ really  _ that clueless? _

 

"Gee, let me think..." Here she paused, actually putting a finger to her lips as if she was truly struggling to come up with the reason she was angry with him.

 

After a moment, she dropped her pretenses, "Shall I give you a list?" Her voice dripped with venom and her eyes flashed. Sirius felt his cock twitch with hunger.  _ You don't know what you're getting yourself into, mate... _ He thought towards it, attempting to reign in his lust for the blazing woman in front of him.

 

"After the months of flirting -the double-sided comments, the random touches, and the not-so-innocent glances- I  _ finally _ worked up the nerve to actually do something about what I felt was between us, and you went and clammed up when you realized it was  _ me _ and not  _ someone else _ ! I think that covers it pretty well."

 

Sirius paused, replaying that night in his mind. He could see how she'd thought that was what he'd done, but the truth of the matter was that  _ wasn't _ the truth of the matter at all.

 

Sure, he'd frozen when he realized it was her, but only because he'd almost dropped dead of a heart attack! He'd been beside himself when he realized it was her hand that was was pumping his prick so deliciously, her hot, wet mouth on his neck. Hell, he'd almost come right there like an inexperienced schoolboy! He probably would have if she hadn't run away, quite effectively killing his erection.

 

This whole thing was a big misunderstanding! It was so ridiculous to him, that he couldn't help it: the corners of his mouth quirked up and he started chuckling, which in turn became full blown laughing. His eyes screwed shut and his head flung back with the force of his mirth, which was a very good thing, as that's how he avoided having Hermione's cup dashed against his forehead when she angrily threw it at him. Instead, it flew innocuously over the tip of his nose and smashed against the wall, brown streaks of tea beginning to run down towards the carpet. Sirius looked up at her, eyes wide, spitting fire.

 

" _ I can't believe you, Sirius Black!" _ She screeched, standing to run from the room, tears running down her face, and hair whipping behind her in her haste.

**OxOxOxOxO**

Sirius gaped again at the shattered remains of the cup before he jumped up to chase after her. "Now hold on just a minute!" he commanded, grabbing a forearm to stop her flight, and planting his feet to stop her from pulling him along with her. What he didn't plan for was for her other arm to swing around, and for her small, delicate-seeming hand to strike him across the face. Hard.

 

"What the _bloody_ _hell,_ woman?!" He grabbed his cheek with his free hand and began rubbing it, his eyes wide.

 

"Let me go, Sirius Black, or _so_ _help me_ , I will hex you!" she sobbed, pulling so hard against him that he was afraid she'd dislocate her shoulder.

 

"Calm down, Hermione. I just want to talk to you, and I can't do that if you run off and ward your room!"

Her juddering breaths didn't stop, but they slowed, and her desperate attempt to detach herself from her caught arm ceased outright.

 

"Good, now can we go sit down again and talk like reasonable adults, or do we have to talk right here, standing in your hall?"

 

Hermione sniffed, "I'm not doing any talking while you're holding onto me like this," she indicated her arm with a nod of her head.

 

Sirius growled low in his chest. "If I let go of you, will you try to run again?"

 

She shook her head, and he slowly released his grip. As soon as her arm was free, she brought it to her chest and began massaging it to encourage the circulation that he'd temporarily cut off.

 

"I am sorry about that, but I knew if you made it to your room you'd make sure I couldn't talk with you again tonight, and I don't want - or plan - to leave without clearing things up."

 

She stared at him silently, her big brown eyes red-rimmed, arms still clutched to her chest as if they could protect her from him. He took her silence as acquiescence, and began to speak, as it didn't seem to him that she would be moving from that spot anytime soon.

 

"I didn't 'clam up' because it was you. I clammed up because it was  _ you _ ,  _ Hermione _ , standing there and having her way with me.  _ God _ , I've wanted that for months, and then you went and took me completely by surprise, blindsiding me. How was I supposed to react?" Sirius had to pause and calm himself, because he'd started yelling at the end. Once he'd gathered his wits again, he continued.

 

"When you left me standing there yesterday, I was still reeling over the fact that it was  _ you _ holding me. I hadn't even yet  _ caught on _ to the fact that I'd offended you. That was never my intention, Hermione. Never. I was hung up on the fact that  _ you  _ wanted _ me _ the same way  _ I  _ wanted _ you _ .  _ Want _ you, actually."

 

By the end of his speech, Hermione was deathly quiet, her eyes round, her smooth, dusky lips parted in acute shock. He hardly had a moment to notice this, though, before she flung herself at him, her lips fastening on his as her upper body crushed and molded into his. He breathed out a moan and looped an arm around her hips to draw her into him fully, his opposite hand cupping her neck, his fingers stroking along her jaw.

 

"I take it you forgive me?" He growled out, pulling back from her only long enough to look in her eyes for the answer.

 

Hermione huffed, her eyebrows lowering as she glowered at him. "Only if you make it worth my while, Sirius Black."

 

Sirius grinned wickedly. "That's the only way I know how, kitten."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I can post things quickly when I try... and when I lock myself in the bedroom away from my screaming toddler (two year molars are no joke O.O). Chapters 8-10 will be up in short order, followed by chapter 11 when I'm finished with it. God willing, tonight. Cross your fingers and pray, y'all.


	8. Chapter 8

Sirius shot out of the Floo at the Den, home of the Lupins, and paused, disoriented by the all-consuming darkness that greeted him.

He spent enough time at the residence to know that it was far too early for all the lights to be out. It was only 9:47; Dora and Remus never had the lights out this early.  _ Never. _

After all, they were semi-nocturnal. 

Something wasn't right.

Sirius knew the layout well enough, so he slowly made his way forward, wand drawn, ears attentive to the slightest noise. He didn't want to light his wand yet, as he could think of no logical reason for the darkness blanketing the home seeing as Remus had mentioned he’d be home that evening with Tonks and their son. Sirius was certain of that much from that afternoon.

“Remus?!” he whispered urgently, silently stalking around the house in a state of acute distress. His inner animal was agitated, hackles raised, tail low. 

He knew - as well as anyone in the wizarding world, if not better - that there were still errant Death Eaters lurking about, all these years later. Every once in awhile someone would spot one of them; they'd have a run-in with the law, or they'd attempt to exact revenge on a wizard or family they felt had particularly wronged them during the war. Things were still tense. You could see it in flashes: in someone’s eyes as you passed them in a dark alley shop; in the way parents clung to the hands of their children while they ran errands; in how so many self-defense classes had sprung up - teaching both magical and muggle means of personal protection. Sure, things were better, but that was easy to say, after all the things that sick bastard had done. Some families, like the Malfoys, had gone so far as to cast a Fidelius on their home - with permission of the Ministry, of course. Nowadays, people took precautions  _ before _ they were necessary. Sales in Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors had gone through the roof during the war, and surprisingly had kept their popularity up. Remus had placed the most advanced wards available over his home, short of a full Fidelius, citing his extra sensory need to protect his mate and child. Which is what had Sirius so worried; no one, other than a select list of people, should have been able to enter the house. 

He slunk through the living room and started making his way up the stairs, making sure to skip over the creaky step second from the top. 

“Moony? Dora? Teddy?” Sirius called softly, not wanting to alert anyone other than those he intended to hear. He crept over to Teddy’s door and opened it slowly, peering into the darkness within. Sirius cast a silent _Lumos_ and cupped a hand around his wand tip to help dim the glow. He scanned the room, looking for anything out of place; as usual, it looked like a hurricane had swept through, reeking toy destruction as it went. Eventually the beam of his wand hit the bed, and he could make out a small, strawberry blond head on the pillow. He tiptoed over to the bedside and gently placed his hand on Teddy’s back, checking to make sure he could feel the rise and fall of breath. He let out a quiet half sob of relief when he realized he could indeed feel the small lungs working like billows beneath his fingers.

Suddenly there was the sound of a bedroom door opening and closing, and footsteps rushing down the hall towards the nursery. 

Sirius turned around, placing himself firmly in between a prone Teddy and the open doorway. Suddenly, a figure appeared, bathed in wand light. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the glow, he could make out a mussed, glowering Tonks, standing firmly in the doorway in what looked to be a hastily tied robe.

“Sirius, what's the meaning of this? You can't come charging into our home in the middle of the night, creeping into my boy’s room and setting off our monitoring wards!” She hissed at him, motioning for him to follow her out of the room. 

Sirius grinned sheepishly at her, ducking his head slightly at the admonishment, and closed the door quietly behind him. 

“Dora, I need to talk with Remus. Is he in the bedroom?”

He didn't even wait for her response before he attempted to go ‘round her to search for his friend in the master bedroom. 

Tonks resolutely stood her ground in the middle of the hall, blocking his way forward with a hand on his chest to stop his progress. 

“Just what do you think you're doing, Sirius?” she asked. “You can't just come barging into our house unannounced; I just got Ted to sleep!” She growled, hair flashing scarlet in anger even as her cheeks burned. Sirius didn't have the energy to wonder why, though. 

“I'm sorry, Dora, but this is an emergency.”

“No! I won't allow this. You need to think a bit more before you just come charging into my home like a-a herd of wild Hippogriffs!” Sirius cocked an indignant brow at her, and she amended, “Even if it was a very quiet one, at that,” causing him to chuckle. 

Just then the nursery door creaked open and a sleepy looking Teddy stumbled out.

“Wotcher, Uncle Paddy!” He exclaimed, running forward to throw himself into the back of Sirius’ knees, bowing the man forward. Tonks glowered at the display and let out an irritated huff when Sirius grabbed him up and threw the squealing toddler in the air.

“Is that Ted? What’s he doing out of bed?” A disheveled Remus queried, finally meandering out of his room, clad only in a pair of sweats. His question sparked a glare from his wife, who sighed and plucked the boy away from his uncle, tucking him into her arms snugly. 

“Fine, you two go talk about whatever’s so bl- so important, and I’ll get him back to sleep. But you both owe me. Know that. Especially you, Remus John Lupin,” she added with a significant look. 

With her threat hanging in the air, Tonks turned on her heel and retired to the nursery with a squirmy, and very put out, Teddy. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate. Didn't mean to interrupt... _whatever_ it was I _so_ _obviously_ interrupted,” he waved his hands around wildly, fingers waving as he did, “but I had to talk to you.”

Remus sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his eyes and down his face to his chin.

“I don't even have the capacity to beat around the bush: Does this have anything to do with Hermione?” he asked, his voice fighting exhaustion, and laced with a hint of annoyance.

“ _ How’d you know? _ ” Sirius asked, then ducked, chuckling, when Remus made to backhand him for his snark.

“You come barging into my house while I’m trying to enjoy some time alone with my wife,” Sirius couldn’t help but give a wolfish grin and waggle of his brows at that, “Speaking of, it had better be something important, because I swear -”

“We shagged,” Sirius blurted out, looking disgustingly pleased with himself.

“Well, fuck me,” Remus breathed out, causing Sirius to laugh uproariously.

“Rather not, all the same, mate.”

****

**OxOxOxOxO**

Hermione awoke with a groan when light hit her face, choosing to keep her eyes closed for a moment and just  _ feel _ .

She felt glorious. Sore, but glorious nonetheless. 

Oh, god, she hadn't been this thoroughly shagged since…since… She stopped and thought about it for a second; _had_ she _ever_ been _this_ _thoroughly_ shagged?

_ Fuck _ . 

This was bad. 

She had only wanted to shag him and get him out of her system, a desperate attempt after lusting after him since she was fifteen. That was going to be impossible if he outshone every other partner she'd ever had.  _ Ever _ . And holy fuck, had he. 

How was she supposed to go back to other blokes when she knew that  _ this  _ was possible?

_ Fucking hell… _

She rolled onto her side to get away from the damn sunlight and couldn't help the low moan that slipped from her lips at the motion. Holy God, she was exquisitely raw, all her nerves on hyperdrive, her whole body overworked, yet loose, her muscles lax like overstretched elastic. She didn't know if she could sit up, let alone walk to the shower - and forget getting ready for work, which was thankfully only a half day - so she gave up on the whole endeavor and just lay there, replaying the night before in her mind’s eye.

****

**OxOxOxOxO**

They didn't even make it to the bedroom the first time (that was the third time), nor the couch (the second time), choosing instead to make use of her narrow hall and the delicate - but surprisingly sturdy - accent table she had situated halfway down its length. If it hadn't been for her expertly done sticking charms, she was certain her photos and paintings would have bounced off the walls and gone careening to the floor. She was also pretty sure she was going to have to fix the paint just behind the little table, which had likely been scraped off the wall during their frantic coupling, if not the plaster and drywall, as well. It would be simple enough to take care of, once she got out of bed and looked up the spells; she wasn't the best at home improvement magic, which Ron still loved to rub in her face, but she was good enough for this job. 

_ Ugh, enough thinking about Ron _ , she mentally admonished, shuddering as she tried to get back into the memory.

“You're so wet for me, kitten,” he'd hummed when he'd finally worked her sweats down her legs, his fingers tracing along the inner seam of her knickers. His words had an effect akin to some sort of self-fulfilling prophesy; she only got wetter.

At that point, he made short order of her knickers, ripping them when they refused to comply with his fumbling fingers - which was quite sad, as she’d rather liked that particular pair. However, at the time, she was much more interested in his sudden case of nerves.

“Sirius Black, are you  _ nervous _ ?” She panted out, a tinkling laugh bubbling up her throat as a Cheshire Cat grin overtook her face. 

“Shut it, you,” he growled out, catching her bottom lip between his teeth in a light nip, “Any man in his right mind would be nervous around you. You're fierce, confident, and,” he paused to glance down at her body with a lust-filled eye, “stunningly beautiful, yet you're humble, and modest about your looks.” He shook his head, a smirk quirking up one side of his luscious lips as she blushed at his compliments.

“Sirius, I-”

“No. No more talking. Unless you're screaming my name, I don't want you talking anymore; it means your brain is still able to function, which means I'm not doing my job properly. So unless you were going to tell me you wanted me to leave…?”

Hermione quickly shook her head in the negative. 

“Then relax, and let me show you just how much I've wanted you.”

And relax she had.

Judging by how sore both her throat and the rest of her body was today, she'd say he’d wanted her pretty badly, and done his job  _ quite _ well. 

_ Bugger. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to CaptainHoodie, Ariel Riddle, and MissandMarauder for their help with this chapter. <3


	9. Chapter 9

She’d done it. It had been almost two weeks since Sirius had shown up at her flat wanting to talk and they’d had their “encounter,” as she was calling it - refusing to acknowledge it as anything other. Somehow she’d managed to avoid him in all the time since, but now it was the last Sunday before she officially moved into Hogwarts to begin preparing for the school year - setting up her classroom, finalizing her syllabus, and the like - and this was the last time she might be able to spend a lazy evening with Harry and the Weasleys. Unfortunately, that also meant seeing Sirius Black, as he, the Lupins, and Andromeda Tonks had become regulars at the weekly gatherings. 

“Hermione, dear, so good to see you again! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better after last week’s bout of lurgy,” Molly Weasley said affectionately, pulling Hermione in for a quick, but fierce hug - thankfully missing her guilty expression - before shooing her away from the kitchen. “Everyone missed you; they’re all in the sitting room. Why don’t you go join them now and say hello?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like any help, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked, already knowing that the woman would refuse her assistance unless she was preparing for a truly big to-do, yet unable to walk away without at least offering.

“Molly, please, dear,” she lightly admonished, patting the younger witch’s cheek, “I’ve told you before! And no, all that needs doing right now is mashing these potatoes, but as you can see, they’re getting on quite well by themselves.” Sure enough, the masher was pounding away at the boiled and skinned potatoes, slowly incorporating the butter, cream, salt, and pepper that had been added.

“If you insist,  _ Molly _ ,” Hermione grinned as she made her way around the breakfast table and towards the door leading to the rest of the house. 

“I do - on both counts!” was called after her, causing her grin to erupt into a bubble of laughter.

Variations of, “Hey, it’s ‘Mione,” were called out from all around as she entered the room, bringing her up short for a moment as those nearest her reached out for hugs or cheek kisses.

“What’s so funny, ‘Mi?” Ron asked absently from his spot on the floor where he was playing Wizard’s Chess with a very focused Harry, whose tongue was firmly lodged in between his teeth as he sized up the board, desperately trying to save his last knight from certain doom.

“Oh, your mum seems to be under the impression that I’m going to take up calling her ‘Molly,’ now that I’m an adult. Or at least one with a job prestigious enough to be referred to by a title.” she chuckled again as she made to sandwich herself onto the couch between Ginny and Tonks, who had both moved over to give her a little room to sit.

“Where’s Teddy?” Hermione asked, looking around the room for the rambunctious little boy.

“He’s outside with the twins, de-gnoming the garden. Well, more accurately, he’s chasing after them and growling, but the gnomes are kind enough to play along as they aren’t being thrown over the wall.”

Everyone got a good laugh at that image, and the room devolved into light chatter and general catching up, stopping only long enough for everyone to tromp outside when Molly informed them it was time to eat. Hermione began to relax, as she had yet to see Sirius, allowing herself to slip more comfortably into the conversations undulating over and around her. She knew how much of a stickler Molly was about one not being late to Sunday dinner, and that the only acceptable reasons to not attend were catching some sort of illness or death. Sirius must have been sick, although Hermione was almost nervous enough to hope for the latter. Almost. 

It was as she was loading her plate with potatoes that  _ he _ came striding over the lawn, smug smirk on his lips, the light of the setting sun glinting off his body like pure gold… And he had no idea that one member of the dining party had just creamed her knickers at the sight of him.

_ Motherfucker! _

Thank Merlin she was leaving the next day, because he looked far too good in a pair of jeans, and she was certain it wasn't at all good for her health should she stay around to ogle him. 

**OxOxOxOxO**

After dinner she tried to make a break for it, citing her need to make sure everything was packed up and ready to go for the next morning and that she still needed rest after being sick the week before. She knew she was lying - at least about the resting; after all, she had never really been sick - it was all just a ploy to avoid seeing Sirius so soon after “the encounter.”

Everything was going swimmingly. She said all of her goodbyes while managing to avoid him without appearing to the casual observer to be passing over him, received a basket of leftovers and fresh-baked goods from Mrs. Weasley, and was just easing into her shoes when she heard her name being called from somewhere behind her. She hastily exited the back door and began to quicken her pace as she made her way across the lawn towards the edge of the wards in order to be able to Apparate.

“Hermione, wait!”

She temporarily paused her flight when she realized the voice calling after her was Harry, not Sirius. Damn, his voice, now that he was older, was too like his godfather’s.

“What is it, Harry? I really need to go,” she sighed, casting a furtive glance behind him to make sure he hadn’t been followed.

Harry’s brow furrowed at this, and he frowned, “Are you okay, ‘Mione? You’ve been off ever since my birthday, it seems. Well, you've been off a bit longer than that, but it changed about then, I reckon.” His observation caused Hermione to blanch, which she strove to play off by adjusting her purse further up her shoulder. Harry, however, didn’t miss the motion.

“Listen, Harry, I’m tired. My flat isn’t cleaned all the way yet, and I still have a few last minute things that need to be packed properly. Could you owl this to me,” she motioned vaguely between them, “whatever it is?”

Harry’s frown deepened, “Since when have you been so eager to get away from your best friend?” he asked jokingly, his heart not in it, as he was unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Hermione’s shoulders crumpled at the sound, and she reached out a hand towards him, only to have him back away just enough so that she missed. It stung.

“Harry, I swear, I’m not trying to brush you off. I’m just tired and stressed. Thing’s will be easier once I’ve moved into the castle and gotten settled, okay? Why don’t you come visit me this week? We can meet up for lunch or something at The Three Broomsticks, yeah?”

The Boy Who Lived nodded once, his mind far away, thinking back on a conversation he’d had the week before. “Okay, ‘Mione.”

Hermione smiled weakly, reaching out for him again. This time he didn’t pull away, and they enveloped each other in a tight embrace before she Apparated home, leaving Harry to make his way back towards the Burrow alone.

When he reached the porch he found Remus waiting for him.

“She gone?” he asked, puffing out a stream of smoke from the pipe he was holding idly. 

“Yeah. Seemed anxious and distracted, just like you said she would.” Harry put his hand out for the pipe, accepting it when Remus handed it over and taking a pull from it with an easy familiarity bred from previous practice.

“Sirius already left as well. Stormed out the Floo when he realized she’d ran,” the werewolf informed him, watching his face for any hint of change at the news. “Seems he wanted to have a private word with her, but she slipped out before he could get her alone. That’s all I could get out before he left; I’m sure he’ll be in another of his moods when you get home.”

Harry heaved a breath out, shaking his head lightly as he did. “I’m going to have to lock up the Ogden’s again, it seems.  _ And _ tell Ginny not to bother trying to come over tonight.” He groaned dejectedly. “He's going to be miserable to live with, isn't he?”

Remus nodded, a small smirk on his face as he remembered how the animagus had ranted and raged the week before when the young witch had managed to slip through his fingers by feigning sickness. He'd been so sure she would show up for the Weasley’s family dinner, having counted on Molly’s legendary ability to incite guilt to come into play. Hermione, they had found, didn't mind using her trustworthiness to fake her way out of showing up, and it had both impressed and frustrated the Marauder. 

“They both will be, until she stops running long enough for them to work things out.”

**OxOxOxOxO**

Hermione threw up extra wards as soon as she got home, fearing she would be followed, and sat down at her little table, letting her shoulders slump forward as she rested her forehead against the cool tiles of the inlaid mosaic.

That had been both better and worse than she’d thought it would be. 

Better because she’d gone all evening without speaking to Sirius, and had been able to - for the most part - avoid even looking his way; she hadn't thought she would be that lucky.

However, it was also much worse than she’d envisioned, because - despite not having interacted with him  _ at all _ \- her body had shown her exactly how affected she now was by his mere presence. She had thought her body’s obvious yearning for him was bad enough before she'd ever had him, but now it was a million times worse, and the kicker was that she knew what she was missing out on. She was  _ beyond _ horny, her panties were soaked, and she’d had to drag her mind out of the gutter more times than she cared to admit to. Not to mention the fact that she'd had to continually give herself a pep talk to make sure she didn't end up caving and inviting him back to hers for a late night shag session. It truly was a delectable idea…

_ Ugh! Enough of that! Time to finish packing and then it's a cold shower and to bed,  _ she thought, forcing herself to stand and take stock of her surroundings.

It felt so odd, looking around at her nearly bare living quarters. The quaint little flat had been her home for two years, ever since the end of the war, and tomorrow she was on her way to be a professor at her alma mater, leaving behind everything she’d known up until then. It had been a dream of hers ever since she first found out about magic.

Teaching was in her blood: her parents may have been dentists, but her favorite grandfather had been a professor, and she used to love listening to him lecture. On the occasions her mother couldn't find a sitter for after school, her grandfather would step in and allow her to come sit in on one of his classes, as long as she was quiet and kept herself busy for the duration. He was the root of her and her mother’s love of Shakespeare - he was a professor of English at a local university - and the reason she had been named as she had. “No other possible name for the daughter of Helen except Hermione,” he'd said when he found out his only daughter was giving him a granddaughter. He’d died shortly after she had received her Hogwarts letter, but he'd been there with her the first time she ever went to Diagon Alley, and had been the one to purchase  _ Hogwarts, A History  _ for her. 

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she got down to business shrinking the last few pieces of furniture and packing them away in her beaded bag, along with the rest of her life. Her books were all boxed up (other than the two she was currently reading, and  _ Hogwarts, A History _ , which she would never ever think of packing away), so she shrunk those down as well, then stored them away along with her full wardrobe, her bathroom decor, all of her kitchen items, and every piece of furniture other than her bare mattress. Eventually even her drapes were packed away, leaving only her mattress and a small duffle filled with the necessities she would need immediately at hand. 

It was a bit sad and rather eye opening that - thanks to magic - her whole life could be packed away into a bag that was the size of her two fists put together. She was also forced to have to face the startling fact that she truly didn't have any ties to a life outside of her professorship. Sure, she had friends, but they didn't really count. Not in the same way that her parents did, and even then, even they didn't count like they used to; they were still in Australia, happily living out their years without any knowledge of her existence. She was, for all intents and purposes, alone. She had known for a while, but had been able to keep herself surrounded by friends and busy enough that over time it faded into the background. Now it glared before her, twenty foot tall and neon.

With that realization she found herself incapable of caring as she slumped, fully clothed, onto her mattress and cried herself into a fitful sleep, too weary to even wave her wand to put the lights out.   
  
Her last conscious thought was that hopefully her new life at Hogwarts would be able to distract her again; she didn't know how long she'd last if it didn't.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, guys! Again, beta love to MissandMarauder, CaptainHoodie, and Ariel Riddle! Thanks, ladies!


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione smiled happily, snuggling further back into her seat at the long half-booth that they had taken up at the Three Broomsticks. It was her twenty-first birthday, and all of the professors had taken it upon themselves to throw her a little surprise party. They had even invited Harry and Ron, along with the rest of the Weasleys. Food and drink had been donated by Rosmerta, who had truly outdone herself on the cake - a massive, three tier, bourbon-laced monstrosity that Molly Weasley herself would be proud of. 

She couldn’t be happier; she hadn’t expected anything like this when she originally set out after dinner. They had made up the most ridiculous excuse to get her to trek down to Hogsmeade - an urgent need to restock their chalk supply - and Hermione had drawn the short straw, so to speak (she now realized that she had been set up). She had dutifully made the long, blustery walk into town, completely oblivious to the fact that Headmistress McGonagall was leading the others through the tunnel behind the portrait of Arianna Dumbledore located in the Room of Requirement and into the Hog’s Head in order to beat her there. They’d all surrounded her as she made her way down the main street, scaring the shite out of her when they began singing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow” raucously as they literally dragged her off to the pub, earning indulgent smiles from passerby as they went. Hermione had become a favorite of the townspeople in the month’s time she’d been there, and a few followed the crowd down to the bar to join in on the fun.

It seemed everyone was there celebrating with her, aside from those poor professors that had patrol or detention duties. Despite her missing colleagues, Hermione was having the best time, laughing and relaxing with her friends - both new, and those she considered family. The remaining D.A. members had gathered back together, and Neville was swapping stories with Terry Boot and the Patil twins; Hagrid was sitting in a corner with Horace, being lead by Minerva in singing some sort of old, Scottish drinking song; and Harry, Ginny, and Ron were discussing quidditch league scores and new maneuvers with an intensely focused Madam Hooch, who was clearly picking up tips to pass on to her team captains.

A sudden blast of chill air rushed through the pub as the door was thrown open, revealing a dark silhouette that quickly entered the waiting warmth of the pub, pulling the door to behind itself as the wavering light from the gas lamps revealed it to be none other than - “Sirius! You came!” Harry called, bounding up to his godfather and embracing him in a manly hug, clapping him solidly on the back. Hermione’s eyes widened comically above the rim of her tankard, and she choked down the gulp of butterbeer she had been swilling back when he had revealed himself. She didn’t know why, but she had assumed he wouldn’t be there. It was likely, she mused, because Remus and Tonks weren’t there themselves due to work commitments. She would have to be a bit more vigilant in the future to inform others just who was allowed to her parties - surprise or no. This was certainly on the  _ surprise _ end of the spectrum...

As Sirius and Harry stepped forward, another figure was revealed, slowing hanging up her coat. When she was finished she entered the pub proper and sidled up to Sirius, putting a hand on his arm. She was pretty, but obviously older than Sirius. Hermione couldn’t help the pang of hurt that struck through her heart like lightning. He didn’t have to go get himself an older woman to show her that their little tryst had been only a one time thing; she had just assumed - after all, he was Harry’s godfather, and 19 years older than herself. It was why she’d been avoiding him; she really didn’t want him to spell it out for her. But  _ this? _ This was too far.

Hermione choked down the last of her Firewhisky and pushed back from the table, rising to her feet before she began slowly making her way towards the exit, accepting birthday wishes from friends and colleagues as she went. All the while she was holding back tears.

“Hermione!”

She spun around, her hair whipping out around her like a curly Devil’s Snare as she turned to face her best friend and the one person she didn’t want to see.

“Where are you going, ‘Mione? Sirius just got here, and the night’s still young,” Harry said, his brow furrowed as he looked between his almost-father and his best friend.

“Happy birthday, kitten,” Sirius murmured, stepping forward to her to press a kiss to her cheek, which was sweeter than usual. It was instantly negated by the presence of the woman behind him.

“I’m just tired, Harry. I didn’t sleep well last night and I’ve still got papers to grade back at the castle, so I’m just going to head back.” She clenched her jaw unconsciously, trying to stave off her tears for a moment more. The action may have gone unnoticed by everyone else, but Harry  saw it.

“But I have a surprise for you, kitten,” Sirius said, reaching behind him for something.

“And I appreciate that, Sirius, but I really need to go,” she interrupted, pushing her way past so she could grab her coat and hat before rushing out into the night.

Harry whirled on his godfather. “What did you do? Why was she so upset?”

Sirius blanched, and tried to throw his godson off the scent, “Who?”

“What do you mean, ‘ _ who? _ ’ Are you seeing multiple birds?” Harry angrily eyed the woman standing off to the side, who was watching the whole display warily.

“ _ What?! _ ” Sirius was struck dumb at that. He wasn’t  _ technically _ seeing anyone, and what's more, he had no idea how Harry knew about him and Hermione  _ at all. _ Unless… Moony.

_ Oh, bugger _ .

**OxOxOxOxO**

Hermione angrily pulled on her coat, hat, and mittens as she walked. She couldn’t  _ believe _ his nerve, showing up to her party with another woman in tow. Sure, they weren’t exclusive or anything - or  _ anything at all _ \- but she had thought he respected her more than that. At least enough to  _ not _ bring another woman to her surprise birthday party!vf

She huffed, stomping her way back towards the castle. She really did have papers to grade waiting for her, but she was in no mood to work on them right now. If she did, she knew she would be hypercritical and probably end up failing everyone, even the little first years.

It was as she was passing through the gates of the school that she became aware of the sound of another set of footsteps crunching in the leaves behind her. She spun around, her wand leveled at her pursuer.

“Woah, easy there,” Sirius said, hands raised in surrender, “I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk. You left before I could say anything, and walk surprisingly fast for having such tiny legs.”

Hermione turned back towards the castle and put her wand away, setting a brisk pace, which, if he was going to insist on talking to her, he was going to have to match.

“Hey, wait,” he called, jogging up beside her and turning around to walk backwards so he could face her as he spoke. “Why are you upset with me? I'm not the one who's been avoiding me for the past month.”

Hermione’s eyes blazed as she glared over at him. “I'm not the one who brought another, much older witch to my birthday party,” she snapped.

Sirius frowned, a thoughtful expression on his face for a moment before he threw his head back and started chuckling. 

“ _What_ are you _laughing_ at?” Hermione exploded, shoving him hard in the shoulder. Sirius struggled to maintain his balance, his arms and legs working erratically to keep him up. He tipped over anyway, his grin falling as well as his body hit the ground in a puff of dry leaves.

“Why’d you push me, witch?” he demanded, working to stand whilst subtly brushing dirt off his arse.

“Because you laughed at me!”

Sirius shook his head, his ebony hair whipping about as he attempted to dislodge the debris that had become trapped within the mass. “Of  _ course _ I laughed at you. What you said was  _ funny _ ,” he stated simply as he began to finger comb the stubborn leaves out, a bemused frown appearing when he plucked a twig from his mane.

Hermione scowled thunderously. “How is what I said the  _ least bit  _ funny, Sirius Black?! You show up at my surprise birthday party with another witch in tow after we had sex - admittedly just the once - and act like it's nothing! And you  _ laugh _ at me!” She could feel the tears threatening again, and while it hurt to hold them back, she refused to cry in front of a bastard like Sirius.

That vexatious grin tried to break out over his face again, but she could tell this time he was fighting it, if only for the sake of her pride. “I laughed because you think I came with Miranda to the party. As an item. I didn’t. She was your surprise: Miranda Goshawk. Of  The Standard Book of Spells fame? I know you know of her, as you’re getting your mastery in Charms on the side of teaching.” Hermione gaped at him as he continued. “I figured it would be a nice birthday present to have her there so you could pick her brain, maybe strike up an owl correspondence… But then you stormed out.”

Horror washed over Hermione as she realized just how far she’d jumped to conclusions.

“I just brushed off  _ Miranda Goshawk!  _ Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed!” she cried, her eyes wide as she covered her mouth with a mittened hand.

Sirius chortled at her expression. “Speaking of, she’s still back there, waiting, if you still would like to talk with her. I set her up with a Gillywater before I left, and she seemed quite comfortable talking with Filius. At least I assumed so, as they were talking rather animatedly.”

Hermione’s brain began to kick in again, despite her mortification. “Wait, how did you know I’m going for my mastery in Charms? I’ve only told a handful of people, and most of them are colleagues.”

Sirius’ smile slid off his face momentarily before he tried to shrug it off. “I just heard it around. I think Harry mentioned it to Molly last Weasley dinner. Either way, I decided it would be as good a time as any to call in a favor or two.”  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but decided to say nothing. She hadn’t told Harry or any of the Weasleys for fear they would tell her she was taking on too much, and the only people who knew were teachers - both past and present. Sirius hadn’t been around any of her colleagues, so that left only one:  _ Moony. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my very own Miranda - So glad fanfic brought us together! Love you!  
> Beta love to justcourbeau. My boo. <3


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione sighed, resting her pounding head against the cool lacquered wood of her desk. Life as a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not going how Hermione had imagined it would. Classes were monotonous, constant grading was dulling her brain, and she had  _ gained _ a stone in the two months she’d been here! Ginny had kept her word about delivering muffins each week, damn her, and that plus the delicious food the elves served and Madame Rosmerta’s fare over at the Three Broomsticks was keeping her arse well-padded. She didn’t do half as much walking and climbing of stairs as she had thought she would, which meant she needed to take time out of her already jam-packed schedule to make time to exercise, which meant it often went undone, like nearly everything else of a personal nature. Well, almost everything… She was making quite the concerted effort to leave time - or make it, on occasion - for a certain tall, dark, and handsome man. _Black_ , almost.

The arrival of an owl brought her out of her momentary funk. The owl dove by and deposited a letter where he head had just been without ceasing its flight, soaring away out the window before she had even read who the missive was from.  _ Ah, another letter from Miranda. _ She set it to the side before trying to refocus on her grading, using the letter as an incentive to finish in a timely manner. She needed something promising at the other end of first-year essays.

She still needed to thank Sirius properly for introducing her to the prestigious witch.  _ Hell, _ she still had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea that Ms. Miranda Goshawk was just an owl or a Floo call away. It was unnerving, almost. They had already discussed one of the most recent, and most dramatic overhauls to general Charms theory and how it affected the caster’s ability to control the flow of their magic through the spell. Hermione had been utterly giddy the night she spent at Miranda’s knee, listening to her wax poetic about Charms in such a way that made her own teaching methods look watered-down and paltry in comparison. 

After a further five minutes of staring at the same line, she threw her hands up and gave it up as pointless. She grabbed her thick winter robes off the back of her chair and threw them on before summoning her scarf, deciding that a walk down to the village and a nice bowl of Rosmerta’s beef and carrot stew was exactly what the healer ordered.

As she was making her way through the lightly blowing snow towards Hogsmeade, she heard crunching footfalls coming from behind her, pulling her from her wandering train of thought. She perked her head up and looked ‘round to see who was behind her, grinning when she noticed the flaming, curly red hair.

“Charlie! What brings you this way on such a cold and blustery evening?” she asked, pulling to a stop to wait for him to catch up with her so they could walk together.

Charlie had been brought on in October to take over the position of Care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid was off on his honeymoon. He had finally plucked up the courage to ask Olympe for her hand just that past summer. The wedding had been a small affair - if you could say that, Hagrid and Olympe being who they are -  on the grounds near the edge of the forest. It had been rushed, as Maxime had been forced to carefully work within her schedule as Headmistress of Beauxbatons, the French equivalent of Hogwarts, as had Hagrid, with his Keeper of Keys and Grounds duties. They hadn’t been able to take and immediate honeymoon, due to their dual responsibilities, but when Charlie heard about their plight he immediately offered his services to McGonagall for as long as necessary so Hagrid could at least got stay with her in France.

So now, here he was in all his well-muscled, curly-haired glory. The female population of Hogwarts had sat up and begun paying  _ close _ attention the moment he stepped foot within the wards. Hermione couldn’t deny his obvious charisma and charm, and none of the other female staff members seemed to be able to either. Poor Pomona would turn as bashful as a Mimosa pudica whenever he was around, Merlin damn their age difference. It was quite the sight to behold.

“Hey there, ‘Mione! Just off to grab a pint at the Three Broomsticks. That last class did me in. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled so many different perfumes in such close proximity all at once like that. I’ve had a raging headache ever since.” he laughed, strolling up to her easily and flashing her a crooked grin.

She rolled her eyes and began her trek anew, “I know what you mean. There seems to be an over-abundance of perfumes and colognes being worn by the student population recently, isn’t there?”

Charlie laughed again, “I forgot you’ve got your own fan club to be getting on with. Must be tough to be surrounded by the little monsters twenty-four-seven and know that you won’t escape until next June, eh?”

Hermione shot him a sideways glare as they walked into the village proper. “You signed on to help for as long as Minerva needs you. Do you really think Hagrid will leave his wife before the school year is done? Would you leave your hypothetical wife like that? I can’t imagine you would.” She chuckled, “And if you did, you clearly learned nothing from your time with the dragons.”

Charlie stopped to wrench the door open, holding it open for her to enter first, just like his mother taught him. “Er, I forgot to ask if this was where you were headed. I just assumed. After all, with you, it’s almost always either here or Tomes, and you look hungry to me.” he winked lasciviously at her, earning him a slap on the arm.

“Charles Ignatius Weasley, don’t make me write your mother!” Hermione shrieked, her head thrown back with the force of her resultant laughter. Ever since he had arrived, Charlie had been flirting incessantly with her, at least she thought he was. She wasn’t great at picking up the differences between when someone of the opposite sex - or, Morgana forbid, the  _ same _ sex, which was even more confusing, she found - was flirting with her versus playing with her. In her mind, they were practically the same thing, so she couldn’t see the point of attempting to disentangle them; it was far too taxing on her already over-worked brain. 

She wasn’t sure what to do about it, though, or even if she  _ needed _ to do anything about it, as she and Sirius were still seeing each other, yet very casually, with a few shags thrown in for good measure. Things were going swimmingly, though they hadn’t yet addressed the great, grey hippogriff in the room: what exactly were they to each other? That thought had niggled at the back of her consciousness for far too long, yet Sirius seemed completely oblivious to her need to categorize their… relationship,  _ whatever _ it may be.

She slipped into a booth, pushing her frustrations with the male sex to the back of her mind as she picked up a menu. She quickly tapped what she wanted with her wand, effortlessly sending her order off to the kitchen, before beginning to shuck off her scarf and coat, leaving it pooled around her hips.

Charlie sat down his own menu and planted his hands on the table. “So, how have your classes been going?” he asked, eliciting a groan from Hermione as she let her head fall forward onto the tabletop, in perfect mimicry of her earlier position in her office. She mumbled out a reply which was muffled by the solid oak, causing Charlie to laugh loudly at her utter defeat.

“That bad?” He grabbed their food and drinks off the heavily-laden tray that had floated over from behind the bar, quickly dispersing the items across the available space.

Hermione heaved herself up into a sitting position, bolstered by the aroma drifting skywards from her bowl of stew and the promise of a relaxing, and likely cathartic conversation with a friend. And maybe a pint or two.   
  


**OxOxOxOxO**

A few drinks and an hour or so later found Hermione and Charlie swapping their most ridiculous and awkward stories of student-on-professor flirtation attempts.

“Wait, wait, wait… So you're telling me that she tried to corner you? In a greenhouse?!” Hermione could feel tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stomach, attempting to stem the flow of her laughter. 

“There was no try - she did! She would have been successful if not for Neville and his impeccable good timing! Thank god for that man and his need to check on his precious plants at odd hours!”

Hermione hiccoughed with laughter, slowly blowing out air through her mouth as she tried to calm down. “Is it bad that I’m happy it’s not just me? That it’s not just the male population of Hogwarts that are horny; these students are  _ all _ slags, I swear. And throwing themselves at teachers?!” her eyes widened, scandalized.

Charlie grinned. “Frankly I don’t blame the blokes for chasing after you, ‘Mione. You’re a catch.”

Hermione blushed crimson, her glassy eyes shining demurely. “You’re not so bad yourself, Charlie Weasley. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Next thing she knew, Charlie was leaning across the table and his hands were in her hair, his lips upon hers. It took her a moment for her brain to realize what was happening, but as soon as she did, she was pushing him away. It took a moment, as he was quite sloshed himself, but as soon as he noticed she was trying to pry him off,  _ not _ pull him closer, he stopped and pulled back.

“Something the matter?” He asked, and it nearly broke Hermione to nod. He looked like utter perfection like that, with his eyes smouldering and his lips swollen from kissing.

“I-I can’t.” she stammered out. “I’m seeing someone.” The mischievous light in his eyes dimmed immediately at her pronouncement.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t know, I swear.”  Hermione held up her hand to stop his stream of apologies. She knew Molly and Arthur had raised him better than that.

“It’s fine, Charlie. Really. I just can’t in good consciousness lead you on when I know there’s someone else. I’m so sorry if I did anything to make you think I was interested,” Charlie shook his head. “Or, whatever… I just, we haven’t labeled what we have, but I don’t want to risk ruining it by messing around with you, ya know?”

Charlie nodded thoughtfully, his face sobering up before her eyes. She decided it was time to go and began gathering up her things and donning them quickly; She didn’t want to further damage her relationship - working and otherwise - with the second eldest Weasley son, but she needed to get away. She needed to talk with Sirius, discuss what they were to one another…

The sound of her name being called out drew her from her reverie. She looked up from where she was tying her scarf around her neck to find Charlie studying her. “Who is it?” he asked carefully, not quite meeting her eyes.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat instantly and forced herself to answer; Charlie deserved that much, after all.

“Sirius. It’s Sirius.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guuuuys!!! I’m SO sorry this isn't completed yet. I’m embarrassed; it’s pretty mortifying, honestly. Life has been insane, and my Muse has been a bitch. I’ve come up with some amazing plunnies while she refused to touch this, and they’re well on their way (won’t publish without at least 10 chapters ready and waiting, and will follow a strict posting schedule). I cannot wait to share them with you!
> 
> A Sirius Misunderstanding has been nominated for Best Novella in the Shrieking Shack Society’s 2017 Mischief Managed Awards! I’m beside myself with glee/pride that one/some of you thought this random word vomit from my addled brain is good enough for such a title. Siriusly, thank you! My Muse is in a good mood, and the plot has been completed and chapters outlined. Now all I have to do is write them! I'm guessing about 9 more to go... :D
> 
> Beta love to justcourbeau, you beautiful soul, you - and mahawna! And a shoutout to my chat girls Miranda, Steph, and Hawna. Thank you all for putting up with me and my psycho-bitch Muse! <3


	12. Chapter 12

Sirius was numb, and it wasn’t from the mid-November weather.

No, this lack of feeling grew and spread from the inside out.  _ Had he meant  _ nothing _ to her? Sure, he  _ was _ older than her. By a lot. But she hadn’t seemed to mind... _

Sirius had gotten done with his work at the Ministry early that day and decided to surprise Hermione with dinner from the Three Broomsticks. He’d Apparated to the village and walked up the road, whistling happily as he imagined getting to spend the evening with his witch. He was going to sneak into the castle - well, as much as one could under Minnie’s watchful gaze - and set up an indoor picnic of sorts in one of the unused classrooms, complete with blanket and soft candlelight. And then he was hoping to see if she was game to act out one of his professor fantasies…That was the plan, anyway.

But none of that would be happening now. _ Oh no! _

When he had entered the Three Broomsticks, everything had seemed in order. Rosmerta gave him a hearty wave and a jaunty smile as he made his way over to the bar. Sirius placed his takeaway order with little fanfare, grabbed a quick tankard for his wait, and settled his bill. He took a seat on a barstool as he waited for his order to be prepared, sipping slowly on his mead and allowing the warmth to seep into his bones. It was as he languidly cast his eyes around the establishment that he heard her. Hermione was somewhere in the pub, laughing. He  _ knew _ that laugh.

His order came up and he grabbed it quickly, nodding a goodbye to Rosie as he made his way through the sea of tables and patrons toward where he had heard her. Soon enough, he spotted her and was making his way over when he stopped cold, his eyes widening as he took in the spectacle before him. Charlie Weasley was kissing  _ his _ witch! His witch was kissing  _ Charlie Weasley! _

His brain simply couldn’t process what was before him. None of his appendages seemed to be working, and his mouth certainly wasn’t. After a moment he seemed to recalibrate, but instead of making his way over to their cozy little table to demand to know what the  _ bloody, buggering fuck _ was going on, he turned on his heel and made his way out into the gently wafting snow, his -  _ their _ \- takeaway still clutched in his fist.

 

**OxOxOxOxO**

 

Harry Potter could not, for the life of him, understand  _ why _ his home smelled like a distillery. One thing was for sure, Sirius was either extremely happy or extremely upset…

He lazily began stripping out of his Auror uniform, hanging his robe in the closet and working his tie loose as he toed his boots from his socked feet. His senses were all telling him to run, but not from danger - from emotional upheaval, whatever kind it may be. He was not good with emotions, he knew. He may not have been at Hermione’s level, but he was certainly no Ron. He wasn’t great at dissecting the how’s and why’s, the causations of emotions, but he could sense the strong ones. And bloody hell, this one was nigh on herculean.

Harry entered the parlour and found the source of the stink: Sirius was lying face first on the settee with his feet dangling onto the Persian rug, liquor spilled and splashed everywhere. There were open containers of takeaway littering the coffee table, and one knocked over onto the floor, its contents joining the puddle of firewhiskey beside an overturned bottle.

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head as he took in the utter shambles that lay before him.

_ First thing’s first, _ he thought. “Alright, Sirius, up you get!” He strode purposefully over to his godfather and began heaving him into an upright sitting position. It took Harry a few goes to get the older man to remain semi-vertical, but eventually, he was able to prop him up with a few throw pillows.

Harry cast his eyes around the room, trying to triage as he did. The food and alcohol spilled on the floor were a minor inconvenience, thanks to magic. There was a broken bottle he had missed on his first glance over, and a shattered tumbler, but those were easily fixed. It seemed the only real problem was the unconscious, snoring animagus.

Harry summoned a vial of Sober-Up and conjured a bin, just in case. Just as he was about to begin his least favorite task, he jolted, realizing he hadn’t yet absconded Sirius’ wand. There was a mistake in the making. With a flick of the wrist he summoned the piece of wood to his hand, and with another, he loosed a small  _ Aguamenti _ right into Sirius’ face.

Sirius came to sputtering and cursing, grabbing blindly for his wand holster and threatening to curse whichever bastard woke him. Harry stood calmly just out of reach, this having not been the first time he’d had to deal with one of his godfather’s alcohol-induced rants. Sirius was soon simmering, too exhausted and drunk to get up and fight like he had been threatening, and Harry decided there was no time like the present to force-feed his father figure a potion.

Harry had learned from past experience that Sirius fought sobering up. Passionately. It was best to bind him - both to his human form  _ and _ from head to toe - and just get on with it. All while watching out for his teeth. He was a biter.

Forcing his head up, Harry pried Sirius’ mouth open, uncorked the vial with his own teeth, and poured the contents down. He quickly clamped a hand over the animagus’ nose and mouth and began using the other to rub his throat, stimulating his swallowing reflex.  _ That _ , he had learned from his job as an Auror. No one liked getting potions spewed back up on them while they were trying to help a Healer save a life.

Harry quickly jumped back from the settee and watched Sirius slowly come back down as the potion took effect.

“Ugh, my throat is bleeding dry but my face feels like it was dipped in the Black Lake,” Sirius muttered while shaking his head like the dog that he was. Harry cast a quick shield charm to deflect the droplets that Sirius was purposefully trying to sprinkle him with.

“Cut it out, Sirius,” Harry commanded in an attempt to keep things on track. “Why did I come home and find the place looking like you’ve had all of Irish National in here? What happened?”

Sirius’ face instantly darkened, his playful mood slipping away like smoke on a breeze. “Nothing I shouldn’t have seen coming,” he muttered, rising and stalking across the room towards the liquor cabinet, clearly intent on picking up where he’d left off before he passed out.

Harry made a tsking noise and flicked his wand at the cabinet, locking it up tight. “Now, Sirius, you know that’s not how we deal with our problems. You’ve heard Hermione tell me enough times that I’m sure it’s drilled through your cranium as well.” He joked, but the words rang hollow to his own ears. Something was seriously wrong.

Sirius’ shoulders slumped and the corner of his mouth lifted in a snarl. Well,  _ that _ wasn’t normal… What the hell was going on?

“Sirius, what happened? Why are you acting weird?” Harry probed. He was worried; this was not normal behavior for a man who was - up until that afternoon when Harry had last seen him - nearly giddy. He’d been acting so much lighter and more confident since he had begun his… whatever it was with Hermione. And there was no way that Hermione was the cause. Hermione would never do something to purposefully elicit this sort of reaction in anyone, let alone someone she obviously  _ cared _ about. Right?

“It’s over." Sirius muttered coldly, his eyes darkening as he spoke, "I’m just thankful for the time I had. Hell, I should be grateful, pup. I know I should; she was slumming with me.”

Harry blanched.  _ What had happened? _

“Sirius, why don’t we go down to the kitchen and I’ll make a brew while you tell me what’s going on. You’re not making sense.”

Sirius frustratedly clenched his jaw before shaking his head slowly in resignation. “No, pup. I’m just going to go upstairs and sleep. I’m pretty worn out after hosting a whole Quidditch team, after all.” And with that, he turned and jogged his way upstairs, not even stopping to retrieve his wand from his godson.

Harry’s eyes widened behind his glasses in shock and his breath left him in a huff. “Well fuck me… I better talk to Hermione.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look at me being all responsible and posting a new chapter not *too* long after the one previous. I wanted to post for May the Fourth/Cinco de Mayo. That was totally my plan. Obviously.
> 
> Beta thanks to justcourbeau, Jade Presley, and MissandMarauder. You babes are BAMFs.
> 
> YOU GUYS!!! A Sirius Misunderstanding WON!!! It WON! I'm in shock... my jaw is still on the floor. Thank you all SO MUCH! I cannot even begin to tell you how floored I am that you loved my writing to the point that you voted for me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.


	13. Chapter 13

As soon as Harry heard Sirius’ door slam above him he was racing to the Floo. He needed to talk to Hermione as soon as physically possible. She would be able to help him connect the dots, he knew. She always had before.

He snatched up a handful of powder, stuck his head in, and threw it in the grate, calling out for Hermione’s office without preamble. Green flames jumped up toward his face before withering away before his eyes. The sensation was...odd. Almost like when he’d been given a swirly by Dudley in his youth.  _ Well,  _ that  _ was odd... _

Harry summoned the Floo pot from the mantle and into his hand. He tried calling again. Nothing happened other than the flames leaping and immediately extinguishing, giving off that odd stationary vacuum feeling once more.

Worry creased his brow, his mind spinning. Had Hermione locked her Floo? Had Sirius  _ blocked _ her address? What the ever-loving fuck was going on?!

On a whim, he threw a third handful of powder into the grate and called out for the Burrow. Immediately, green flames sprung into existence and he was afforded a toasty view of the Weasley’s living room.  _ So it was definitely Hermione’s connection and not the Floo in general. _

Harry debated just withdrawing his head and ending the call, but he didn’t want to be rude, so he impatiently waited around for a moment to see if anyone would answer. He knew the Weasleys would understand, but Molly and Arthur were worth his momentary delay.

After a moment, it was neither Molly nor Arthur, but George who came ambling into the room, a slow, mischievous smirk sliding over his face when his eyes landed on Harry’s visage floating above the grate.

“Doth mine eyes deceive me, or is that the bless’d noggin of Britain's Boy Wonder afloat within mine flue?” He asked, eyes comically agog and a hand clutched to his chest as if to calm his heart’s shocked palpitations.

Harry chose to answer the jest with a put-upon smirk, his mind already jumping to conclusions that he was none too happy to be reaching. “Sorry, George. Gotta go save the world again. Well, kind of. I’ll explain later,” He started to pull back without waiting for a response before he thought better of it. “On second thought, if you see Hermione, keep her and send me a Patronus.”

Without assuaging the worry that was now plain on George Weasley’s face, he broke the connection, stood, and grabbed yet another handful of Floo powder.  _ At this rate I’m going to need to go to the shops and get more by tomorrow, _ he thought.

“Headmistress’ Office, Hogwarts.”

Harry stepped into the grate and was gone in a spin of ash, never more grateful for his special privileges as a member of the Auror force.

****

**OxOxOxOxO**

To say Minerva McGonagall was surprised to receive Harry Potter on her hearth-rug at half past eleven in the evening was an understatement. It was a very good thing it had been so many years since she had taken those five stunners to the chest because she would have needed a trip to St. Mungo’s if she had still been recovering upon his abrupt arrival. It had been  _ fifteen years  _ since she had received any male company so late in the evening… 

“Potter, as much as I enjoy your visits, I must admit I prefer a bit of warning before you come spiraling into my chambers at this time of night. My office hours have been over for hours now. There must be some urgent need for you to not even send a Patronus in warning,” she admonished gently, eyeing him critically over her spectacles. With an imperious sniff, she pulled her tartan dressing gown a bit tighter and adjusted her position in her chair behind the ornate desk in the center of the room. “Is there an emergency within my school that I am unaware of?  _ Should _ I be made aware, Potter?”

Harry stopped in his tracks, halfway across her office to the door. No matter how many years passed, he would always be her student, and that meant feeling a proper fool when she would turn a critical eye on him. Especially when he was technically sneaking around Hogwarts past curfew. Some things never changed, it seemed.

“Nothing serious, I assure you, Prof- I mean, Headmistress. At least I don't think so at the moment. Nothing dire, at least. So sorry to intrude, but yours was the only Floo I was able to access.”

The middle-aged witch fixed him with her best all-knowing stare. “I assume you’ll inform me if I need to make substitute arrangements for my Runes professor before you leave? A note will do, as I have no intention of remaining awake into the ungodly hours you will likely be.”

Harry gulped and nodded his head as he eyed the door and inched his way towards it, clearly impatient to get to his friend, yet unwilling to appear rude.

Minerva sighed and inclined her head towards the door. “Very well, be on your way. Kindly close the door on your way out, would you? Do give Hermione my best, and  _ please _ make use of the front door and Apparation point beyond the gates upon your leave. ”

Without waiting upon ceremony, Harry turned on his heel and flung himself out of the room, a hurried goodbye drifting on the air behind him.

The Headmistress put a weary finger to her suddenly aching temple as the door slammed behind him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be through with those three. Merlin and Morgana save my poor portrait.”

****

**OxOxOxOxO**

In no time, Harry arrived at Hermione’s chamber door. He wasted no time in trying the lock, then pounding when he couldn’t gain entrance or bypass the wards.

He was prepared to find a furious Hermione on the other side—no one with half a brain would try to gain entrance without her express permission—but instead, he came face to face with a Weasley.

Charlie Weasley, to be exact.

“Charlie? What are you doing in Hermione’s rooms?” Harry asked, his stomach dropping to his feet. No wonder Sirius was such a mess. Hell, Harry himself would be a mess if his witch left him for Charlie.  _ Everyone _ loved Charlie. It was purely good luck that he had gotten one of the two witches in the world who wouldn’t fall for his charms, simply due to relation.

“I could ask you the same, Harry. What are you doing showing up at a witch’s room at near midnight? A witch who isn’t my baby sister, I mean.” He retorted, a roguish, conspiratorial smirk gracing his face.

Harry couldn’t help but grimace, despite knowing that if Ginny knew or suspected even half of what he did, she would be here herself. Breaking the door down, most likely, and employing her famous Bat-Bogey Hex.

“I’m here to check on my best friend. Things are… not as they should be at home, so I became concerned. May I come in? I’d rather not have it out here in the corridor. Never know who is listening,” He intoned, his head listing to the side to indicate the many portraits that were attempting to appear to be in a deep, nearly-silent slumber. One even had his ear trumpet pressed into his ear, which was mashed against the side of his canvas in an effort to keep it in place without the use of his hands.

Charlie moved aside, swiftly welcoming the younger man into the dimly lit room.

Harry looked around in confusion, his eyes scraping over the disorganized tableau before him. There were papers all over her desk, pots of cold tea and used cups on nearly every surface, and a large pile of blankets that seemed to be heaving on her receiving couch.

With a sigh, Harry walked around the back of the couch and took a seat on the edge. “Oh, ‘Mi. What happened?”

With a great, wet sniffle, Hermione’s head emerged from the bundle, her hair in a cacophony of curls that greatly dwarfed her tear-stained face. “He broke it off with me, Harry!” She wailed, pulling a tissue from within the folds of her blanket and blowing her nose loudly. “Well, we would have had to have been dating to have anything to break off, but he as good as!”

“Why, ‘Mione? He loves you; I know he does.” At that pronouncement, Hermione’s hysterics began anew, which caused Charlie’s eyes to fall to the floor as his shoulders drooped.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault.” He muttered, unable to look Harry in the eye when he whipped around to get a better look at the former dragon handler.

“Explain. Right now.”

“I was making my way into the village for a spot of dinner when I ran into Hermione and asked if she would join me,” he admitted begrudgingly. His head shot up and his eyes shone fiercely as he explained, “I swear I didn’t know about her and Sirius, or I wouldn’t have done it.”

Harry exhaled heavily through his nose. “I believe you, Charlie, but I’m not who you have to convince. Besides, I doubt Sirius would break up—or not—over a chance dinner between colleagues. So what else happened?”

Charlie gulped and continued his tale. “I will admit it wasn’t exactly a chance meeting; I’ve been watching ‘Mione—thinking she was a free bird, no attachments whatsoever. Again, I swear I wouldn’t have done anything if I’d known. Anyway,” he waved his  hands dismissively, cutting off his own train of thought, “I sort of planned to run into her on her way. We walked down to the village and had a great time just catching up and enjoying some good food. Then I ruined everything when I kissed her just before we left. She told me straight off she was seeing Sirius—explained it wasn't a done deal, they hadn’t put a name to it, but that she wanted to—which was followed by heavy groveling on my part and a good, if a bit awkward, laugh between us. We didn’t know anything was amiss until we got back here to grade papers and there was an owl waiting for her. We didn’t know we’d been seen, and were both prepared to sweep it under the rug and never speak of it again unless Hermione decided she wanted to tell Sirius. But apparently he saw, or someone told him; we aren’t really sure which it is.”

Hermione had been hiccoughing and sniffling throughout the whole retelling. Charlie sat down in the nearest chair and squeezed his head between his hands.

Harry gathered himself and asked the next most pressing questions on his mind: “Where’s the letter? May I read it?”

Hermione’s curls bobbed, which Harry took as acquiescence, and after a bit of crinkling and struggling the letter was produced from within her cotton cocoon, in all its tear-splattered infamy.

Harry adjusted his glasses so he could better see the piece of brown paper—clearly torn from a takeaway bag, like the ones strewn across his sitting room table—in front of his eyes before his brow furrowed in agitation and exasperation _. _

_ It was fun while it lasted, kitten. You’ve always deserved someone young and whole. Congratulations to you; Charlie’s a lucky man. Enjoy your life. — S.O.B. _

“Sodding Salazar Slytherin, Sirius. You’ve got to be bloody kidding me…” he muttered to himself. His godfather was a complete knob and never was good about waiting for an explanation before running headfirst into action. Much like himself. Must be where he got it. However, Harry knew it wasn’t entirely Sirius’ fault…

“‘Mi, this is a big, buggering mess. Sirius is at home, drunk off his arse, and he’s blocked the Floo connection to yours.” 

Hermione’s small, broken voice butted in for only the second time since he’d entered her rooms, which must have been some Hermione record. “I  _ know _ , Harry! As soon as I read it I tried to Floo over and explain, but I couldn’t get through. We even tried walking to the edge of the school and Apparating, but he’s completely blocked me out of the wards!”

Harry felt his brows shoot to his hairline before they fell just as swiftly as his face crumpled with worry. “I’ve never seen him so miserable, and I’m including just after he was released from Azkaban  _ and _ when he was stuck at Grimmauld during the war.” Hermione seemed to deflate at his pronouncement, becoming a mere husk of herself, much like Sirius himself. Even Charlie looked ill.

“So,” Harry released an unknowingly held breath and looked between his two friends. “How are we going to fix this?”

It seemed this was going to be a  _ long _ night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… How’s life been since… April? I feel like a complete douche for not updating for so long, but if you knew what happened in my life in the interim, you would probably give me a hug. And a stiff drink. Or two. Maybe just a pitcher. Trust me, those who know have offered all of the above.
> 
> Normally I would feel like I needed to explain myself, but so many wonderful writers have reassured me that not only is it unnecessary, but it’s setting a wrong precedent if I do. This is my work that I write for my personal enjoyment. I’m stating this here for myself, as I reallyreallyREALLY feel like I NEED to almostkinda answer to you guys and that you deserve to know the hell I’ve lived. That I haven’t forgotten you or this fic. Which you don’t, as not only is it personal, but part of it is an ongoing investigation and involves a minor (my daughter). But I personally want you to know the gist of what has kept me away, as it helps you relate to me on a human level. We ALL struggle. I’m not just a pen name on a site, and neither are any of you (even you, guests).
> 
> So, without further ado, this is what June-September looked like for me:
> 
> My in-laws came to visit, my anniversary happened, I miscarried (our fourth loss), BAD THING (ongoing investigation), Fourth of July, I was sick for over a month, then had surgery that I didn’t have insurance for, my kids all got sick the day after my surgery, I got sick again, we started our first year of homeschooling, then there were hurricanes blowing through my state, and bad news about the BAD THING. I even think I missed a few things… Oh, my brand new brother-in-law went to the hospital four times for collapsed lungs over that span of time, had chest cavity scrape/lung stapling surgery twice to correct it, and my little sister almost died. That one just happened about two weeks ago. Plus my baby sister is due with her first—a niece! Her due date was yesterday. And I’ll be acting as doula, whenever the time comes.
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> In other news, this story is a whole year old, as of the sixteenth of last month. Insane, if you ask me. Thank you guys for giving me the love I needed to take off, and thank you for the votes in various competitions and such. ASM is up for Best Sirius in the Shrieking Shack’s 2017 Marauder Medals. Just found out and am completely gobsmacked, as since I’ve been so quiet I kinda expected to fade away from the scene completely, which is wont to happen. Didn’t even expect a mention. So thank you.
> 
> Anyway, I love you guys, which is why I’m even telling you anything. Just please respect that this is my choice, and many other authors don’t/won’t feel the same way and will keep everything close to their chests.
> 
> As always: Those that leave reviews are amazing, and those of you who just gobble this up are also amazing. I’ve always loved writing; it makes me feel like myself. Thank you for sticking with me and giving me grace to live my life and raise my three girls.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to potterfangirl21, whose desperate and gushing—although brief—review made me grin like a fool while in public. Thank you.
> 
> Beata love to MissandMarauder, justcourbeau, and Blond Handsome Stranger. You guys are more to me than just amazingly fab grammar nazis; you’re true friends. Love you. Thank you for being there for me through all my crazy real life shit. You guys are my marauders (but no one is Peter).
> 
> Also, I’ve been editing all past chapters (holy plot holes and autocorrect fails, Batman) so expect changes and all sorts of random bonus bits. Nothing too huge, but I’ve filled in details and refined shit.
> 
> Sorry for the long note. Just had a lot to say.

**Author's Note:**

> No Author's Notes for now - just enjoy and review, please!


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